


Sanditon revisited

by MissPiony



Category: Sanditon (TV 2019), Sanditon - Jane Austen
Genre: Almost Kiss, Angst, Continuation, Desire, Eventual Romance, F/M, Happy Ending, Love, Meant To Be, References to Jane Austen, Romance, SanditonSeason2, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, angstwithhappyending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 08:01:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 83,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21158294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissPiony/pseuds/MissPiony
Summary: UPDATE; story beyond series 1 starts at Chapter 19A re-telling and continuation of Sanditon (PBS/ITV), deep diving into the thoughts and feelings of Charlotte and Sidney and continuing beyond the heart-wrenching ending. This is the Sanditon book as I want it to be, my attempt to set words to two characters I  adored.Might just as well be called Charlotte and Sidney falling in love.Multi-chapter story initially following the series closely but filling gaps with added scenes. Did we not all wonder what went on in Sidney's head at times and what actually happened when he suddenly ended up with Eliza off-screen?





	1. Bluntness on a balcony

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The Sanditon Sisterhood](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=The+Sanditon+Sisterhood).

> Because I cannot let this lovely couple go yet, especially not with such an unhappy ending.
> 
> Disclaimer: I have borrowed the characters and part of dialogue a while for fun. I do not claim to own them though I would not mind keeping Sidney for a while.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a new acquaintance sparks feelings in Sidney Parker in a way he has not experienced for a long time

He could not believe how that woman had had the audacity to talk to him. Who did she think she was?  
  
Still fuming with anger, Sidney Parker slammed the door behind him and threw himself on top of the bed in the hotel room which temporarily served as his base here in Sanditon. He did not even bother taking his boots off first, just sank down with a curse and then, unable to relax, lay there tense and furious, staring at the ceiling.  
  
Miss Heywood. What an infuriating woman! Or girl was a better description of someone so young and immature, with so little knowledge of the world.  
  
No matter what one chose to call her, it had been a long time since anyone had provoked such strong feelings of any kind in Sidney Parker. In this case the feelings sparked were anger and frustration and even in resting position he could feel his pulse still racing, his attempts to will it to slow down were futile as long as the adrenaline rush lasted.  
  
Miss Heywood was the summer guest of Sidney’s older brother Tom and his wife Mary here in the town of Sanditon, where Tom lived and worked to enthusiastically transform the former sleepy fishing village into a fashionable seaside resort and Sidney was a temporary visitor from London, here to help his brother in his venture. He had arrived only yesterday, summoned by Tom to come join the first Sanditon ball and bring his fashionable friends, to add some flair to the event. Somewhat reluctant, albeit wanting to support Tom, Sidney had left the pleasures of London and convinced two friends, Mr. Crowe and Lord Babington to join him. He knew that Tom depended on him to make his ambitious plans for the town take off and he also knew that Tom would be in deep financial trouble if he did not succeed. So, here he was, pulling his weight, not by investing money but by using his connections in high- society.  
  
Already when Sidney’s carriage approached Sanditon yesterday, he had come across Mary and another woman on the road leading into town. His dear sister in law had been thrilled to see him and happily introduced him to her companion, but Sidney had paid little attention to Miss Heywood, who he at the first uninterested glance mistook for a new maid. He quickly dismissed her as an insignificant, bland country girl who rather belonged in the nursery than with the adults and fleetingly noted how unladylike it was of her to wear her hair down, disobediently flapping around her face in the sea breeze despite her bonnet. He had given her no thought between then and the ball tonight, in fact almost forgot she even existed.  
  
Seeing her at the ball, he had realised that she was far from a child, prettyish rather than plain and somehow, she had disturbed his usual equilibrium even before her tactless remarks about his family.  
  
Sidney closed his eyes but immediately opened them again as Miss Heywood seemed to be projected on the inside of his eyelids, appearing the way she had stood before him this evening. He did not wish to be reminded of that. He did not wish to see her twinkling hazel brown eyes, the little dimple in her chin and another pair of dimples appearing whenever she smiled, or her dark curls transformed into a fashionable hairdo revealing her delicate neckline and showing she was actually a young lady not some wild peasant girl. He definitely did not need to be reminded of her feminine figure enhanced by the white dress with a very flattering décolletage, showing just enough to make a man curious as to how her curves looked underneath. Nor did he wish to remember how it felt to hold her when they awkwardly had been paired for a dance. He had held her stiffly, almost at arm-lengths distance and avoided meeting her gaze, yet he had been strangely aware of her one small, gloved hand wrapped in his, the other resting lightly on his shoulder as they floated over the dance floor. He had been equally aware of her body heat through dress fabric when he held his palm to the small of her back and the pleasant faint scent of jasmine perfume finding his nostrils. It was like all his senses suddenly were extra sharp, tuned in and registering every tiny detail about her and to his dismay he could not turn it off.  
  
He was confounded as to why she evoked this strange attentiveness in him. Sidney Parker was a man who enjoyed female company and sought it frequently, but he had not developed feelings for any woman in nearly a decade and that was the way he intended to keep it. He had been burned once and that was more than enough to teach him that staying away from getting emotionally involved was the safest way not to get hurt or distracted and he was proud to have left the naïve fool he once was far behind. Young and broken-hearted he had left for the West Indies, only to return to England years later, far wealthier than when he left, heart mended and hardened. At 28 he was a more eligible bachelor than ever, but cynical and living in the firm belief that life as a single man was the kind that suited him best.  
  
As soon as the tune was over, he had abruptly let go of the disturbing Miss Heywood, merely thanking her for the dance with a curt nod. He fetched himself a glass of wine and downed it quickly, but suddenly needed some distance to all the people and the loud music. Up on the second floor he found an empty balcony facing the ballroom and remained there for some time, looking down on the sparkling chandeliers softly illuminating the dancing and mingling crowd, taking it all in and contemplating. People who knew Sidney would say this was typical of him, to every now and then distance himself from everything, as if he were an outsider, an onlooker, rather than a participant in life. That had not been his way when he was younger, but that was the man he had grown to be. He did not care much what others said about him though, he did as he pleased and the only one who seemed to really worry about him was Mary. He knew she thought him lonely and wished to see him settled, but he could not imagine that ever happening. To alleviate her concerns, he had told her he was perfectly content as he was and kindly asked her to refrain from match-making. Being the fine woman that she was, she had accepted his wish and stopped introducing him to suitable young ladies years ago.  
  
Even if he did not care admit it to himself, Sidney had not only wanted to escape the ball guests in general, but Miss Heywood in particular and he was therefore mildly annoyed when she too found her way to the balcony. It was obvious though that she like him had sought a place to get away from everything, rather than seeking his company and as she seemed shy and out of her comfort zone he had felt obliged to engage in polite conversation.  
  
“A penny for your thoughts, Miss Heywood.”  
  
Why had he even said that? He was not the least interested in knowing her thoughts, was he? He hardly expected her to have any thoughts about anything besides dresses and other pretty things and finding a suitable husband for herself and he was not interested in any of those things.  
  
“I was thinking how very hard it is to make people out.”  
  
Not the answer he was expecting he had to admit.  
  
“Did anyone in particular provoke that thought?”  
  
“People in general. I like to amuse myself by observing and trying to make conclusions, but in a place like Sanditon where strangers mingle freely, it's hard to form a reliable judgement. People can be so difficult to interpret. Don't you find?”  
  
Her remark had surprised him, he had not expected her to be an observer, much like himself and it piqued his curiosity.  
  
“And what have you observed about me upon our small acquaintance?”  
  
She hesitated briefly but seemed encouraged by his interest.  
  
“I think that you must be the sensible brother of the three.”  
  
He laughed on the inside. He had made himself a fortune by trading and investing wisely, thus made his modest inheritance grow vastly, but due to his habits when it came to drinking, women and occasionally engaging in boxing to get rid of some steam, it was rarely if ever that anyone called him sensible.  
  
“Oh, the sensible brother? And what makes you say that?”  
  
The apparent amusement in his voice loosened her tongue and words poured out, perhaps more freely than she had intended.  
  
“Well I may be mistaken but it seems to me that your younger brother, Arthur, has a very contrary nature, alternately over-lethargic and over-energetic. While your elder brother, Tom, could be called over-enthusiastic. I'm afraid that, despite his good nature, he neglects his own happiness and his family's in his passionate devotion to Sanditon. Don't you agree?”  
  
He was completely taken aback when she put into words to what he himself had thought so many times, especially when it came to Tom. Sidney often worried that Tom not only neglected his family but that his obsession with Sanditon might leave him bankrupt as well. However, thinking such things about his own brother was one thing, hearing a stranger pinpointing it so bluntly after only a short acquaintance was something entirely different. He was already annoyed by her presence and the odd effect she had on him, and now anger flashed inside him on his brother’s account.  
“Upon my word, Miss Heywood, you are very free with your opinions.”  
  
Her smile and temporary confidence faded when she noticed the sharpness in his voice.  
“I beg your pardon, I didn't…”, she stuttered but he interrupted her.  
  
“And upon what experience of the world do you form your judgements? Where have you been? Nowhere. What have you learnt? Nothing, it would seem, and yet you take it upon yourself to criticise.”  
  
He saw her shrink under his words, her eyes seemed to grow wider and darker and the twinkle disappeared. He realised how stern he sounded and when her eyes glazed and there was a faint tremble to her bottom lip, he felt an unsettling urge to pull her into his arms and comfort her and say it was not so bad. This just made him angrier and provoked him to instead continue scolding at her.  
  
“Let me put it to you, Miss Heywood, which is the better way to live? To sit in your father's house with your piano and your embroidery? Waiting for someone to come and take you off your parents' hands? Or to expend your energy in trying to make a difference? To leave your mark. To leave the world in a better place than you found it. That is what my brother Tom is trying to do. At the expense of a great deal of effort and anxiety, in a good cause for which I do my best to help and support him. And you see fit to criticise him, to amuse yourself at his expense.”  
  
He almost spat the words in her face and saw her flinch.  
  
“I beg your pardon.”  
  
He stared hard at her in silence, looking down into eyes now large like saucers and full of regret.  
  
“I have offended you.”  
  
Her lower lip was definitely trembling. Sweet Jesus, he hoped she would not start crying. Then he would be forced to comfort her, or he would not be allowed to call himself a gentleman. Time to make a hasty exit.  
  
“Please forgive me”, she pleaded, and he steeled himself.  
  
“No, you haven't offended me. I'm the one at fault. I shouldn't have expected so much from a girl with so little experience and understanding. Excuse me.”  
  
He left then, not only her but the entire ball because his festive mood was gone. Instead he strode back to his hotel room and now lay here with pounding heart, missing out on any fun because of her.  
  
She had offended his brothers, thus offended him, but as he calmed down he admitted to himself that her observations though tactless, were spot on. He had told her she was a silly, ignorant girl, but the truth was that she seemed to be the contrary. Her accurate analysis of his brothers let on that she might be more perceptive and intelligent than many people he knew, and he wondered what else she had figured out about himself besides that he was the more sensible of the three Parker brothers. It disturbed him how much he wanted to know, and for that reason he decided to ban Miss Heywood and her opinions from his mind.


	2. An unaccomplished young lady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a new acquaintance makes Charlotte Heywood feel first intrigued, then silly and deflated

Charlotte Heywood was lying in her bed staring at the ceiling, unaware that Sidney Parker was doing the same in his hotel room further down the same street. Her emotional state was different from his though. 

Charlotte’s natural disposition was adventurous and merry, but now she felt deflated, sad and confused. Up until this evening she had considered herself very fortunate to be here in Sanditon and appreciated the circumstances that had brought her a long way from home, to such an exciting place. Now she was not so sure anymore.

Three weeks ago, the carriage Mr. Tom Parker and his wife Mary had broken down on the way from London to Sanditon. The carriage overturned on the bumpy country road not far from Charlotte’s father’s estate in Willingden and Charlotte had been the first to come to their rescue. Unfortunately, Mr. Parker had sprained his ankle and the Heywood family generously offered the two travellers to stay with them until he had recovered, and the capsized carriage had been mended.

The Parkers saw themselves forced to stay with the Heywoods for nearly a fortnight because spare parts, which were hard to get by, were needed to fix the carriage. Even if they were very grateful for the hospitality, Mr. Parker was eager to return to Sanditon and talked about it with longing as if it were the most wondrous place in the world. Charlotte was the one who mostly attended to them and kept them company. She was thrilled over the unexpected, exciting guests and listened attentively when Mr. Parker enthusiastically spoke of the growing town and his vision to turn it into a fashionable seaside resort. Curious as she was, she asked many questions and he was more than happy to answer because Sanditon was his favourite conversation topic. He spoke with such fervent passion that Charlotte clearly could visualise new buildings taking shape, the seaside promenade filled with fashionable strolling people and the brand-new bathing machines which enabled ladies to go swimming respectably. When Mr. Parker talked of the invigorating fresh air, the beneficial sea water and the seagulls flying above, she could almost smell the sea weed, taste the saltiness and hear the cry of the birds. She had never set eyes on the sea, never been far away from home at all except for where her beloved books took her, but now a longing for the coast and the unknown town was evoked in her. She wished intensively she could experience the wonders of Sanditon first hand but never imagined she would have the chance for real.

The last evening before the Parkers were to resume their journey, Tom generously invited the entire Heywood family to come visit in Sanditon. Considering they had fourteen children, a testament to the Heywood’s affectionate marriage, it was something of a relief to Mrs. Parker when Mr. Heywood turned the offer down, saying that he as a rule did not travel more than five miles away from home. However, she noticed the disappointment on the eldest daughter’s face and nudged Tom to ask if at least Charlotte could be allowed to join them as their summer guest. She had grown fond of the witty girl over the last weeks and knew she would enjoy having her as company over the summer. Tom was happy to oblige as he in Charlotte sensed someone who appreciated the grandness of his vision and he realised she could also be a companion for Mary when he was busy achieving it, thus keeping his wife content.

It took some persuasion before Mr. Heywood reluctantly agreed to let Charlotte go. He was harder to convince than his wife because he had come to depend on his eldest daughter’s advice on nearly all matters concerning the estate and knew he would miss her dearly. He also knew that even if she was highly intelligent, brave and capable, she had led a protected life and had little experience of the vices of the world. He feared she may come across bad people, or even worse, a good man and fall in love. Then she would be lost to them forever. Mrs. Heywood knew his mind well and told him all that was selfish thinking. This was an excellent opportunity for Charlotte to see something else than Willingden and experience more of society than they ever would be able to offer her. Mr. Heywood was a country gentleman of some fortune, but their status and wealth was not such that their daughter would ever do a season in London. Visiting the Parkers, Charlotte could amuse herself under safe circumstances and it would be foolish to keep her from that. In addition, Charlotte would never forgive him if he did not allow her to go, Mrs. Heywood confidently informed her husband.

Unlike many other men, Mr. Heywood was a man wise enough to listen to the women surrounding him so in the end he agreed to let Charlotte go, but only after the Parkers had promised to take care of her and bring her back to him at the end of the summer. Mrs. Heywood on the other hand, could not help hoping that even if the prospect of finding herself a husband was not what drew Charlotte to Sanditon, she might stumble upon someone to her liking. The reason for this wish was not that Mrs. Heywood wanted to get their beloved daughter of their hands, but she had long ago realised that none of the local young men was a suitable match for Charlotte even if half of them likely were in love with her. The strong-willed and opinionated Charlotte simply needed someone who was more of a challenge than any of them ever could present, if she was to admire and respect her husband. So, when the entire family tearfully waved Charlotte goodbye, Mr. Heywood hoped she would return without having found a husband, whilst Mrs. Heywood prayed for the opposite. Charlotte herself was simply thrilled over the adventure ahead.

The first week in Sanditon had been wonderful, exceeding all Charlotte’s expectations. Upon arrival to the beautiful Parker residence, Trafalgar house, she had had to keep herself from gawping at the tasteful interior decor resembling nothing she had seen before, and she could scarce believe it when she for the first time got a room all to herself. She found the little town charming, with its shops with enticing displays and more elegant buildings under construction. Then there was the wondrous sea, stretching infinitely from the beach to the horizon like a connection to distant, unknown adventures and she had even surprised herself when she had dared a swim from Mr. Parker’s bathing machine. When she lowered her entire body into the cold, salty water and then emerged to the surface again, gasping for air, she felt like she was reborn. Last but not least, she had met more new and exciting people than she did in a year at home. None of all the new impressions scared Charlotte. Greedily she took it all in, amazed that the world outside Willingden had so much to offer and felt like she could not get enough of it. It was well enough to read about things, but still better to try them out for real. She was determined to make the most of this summer and experience everything Sanditon had to offer.

The first Charlotte saw of Mr. Sidney Parker was the large portrait of him hanging in Trafalgar house. She could not help but noticing the painting of very handsome young man, with dark eyes and hair, looking kind and innocent. Mary told her that Tom had two younger brothers and that portrait was of the second eldest, Sidney, who had lived in the West Indies for many years but to their joy now was based in London. He had done well for himself and was established in high-society, not by marriage but as a self-made entrepreneur. She also shared that Tom had high hopes for his younger brother to introduce some of his wealthy friends to the pleasures of Sanditon, so they would fall for its charms and rent summer houses here and then make other high-status visitors follow in their tracks. She did not say that he was desperate for it to happen, but Charlotte could read between the lines as she had already begun to realise what a high-risk venture the expansion of Sanditon was for Tom economically.

The second time Charlotte came across Sidney Parker’s name was when she walked on the beach with another new acquaintance, Esther Denham. Miss Denham was a redhaired beauty, a few years older than Charlotte and Charlotte felt quite common and inexperienced next to her and listened with interest to everything she had to say, though she was surprised to learn how unimpressed Esther was by Sanditon, the sea and even the Parkers. Miss Denham liked Mary but thought Tom a fool who would ruin himself, the youngest brother Arthur a buffoon and as for Sidney she claimed that he was very unstable and unreliable. She even advised Charlotte to be on her guard. Of what?, Charlotte wondered. She knew Tom relied on him to come to Sanditon for the upcoming ball and now she was very curious to meet him. She had never met anyone who was described as unstable and unreliable before and she wondered what such a man would turn out to be like. She had a hard time making that description fit with the gentle young man in the portrait, but she had understood that was painted more than ten years ago before he travelled abroad. Maybe he had changed since then, maybe during his adventure to the West Indies. That was another thing that made her curious about him; never had she met anyone who had travelled so far, and she could think of a thousand questions to ask him.

The third time Mr. Sidney Parker popped up, it was in actual person, just as he arrived in town. Apparently he was at least reliable enough to turn up for the ball like he had promised Tom, but other than that Charlotte had a hard time figuring him out at first sight. He was indeed very different from the gentle-looking manboy in the portrait. His eyes and hair were still dark, but there was nothing soft and boyish about him now. He was very much a man, different from any other men Charlotte had come across. Tall, imposing, undeniably handsome and with an air of fashion about him. He was charming to Mary but dismissive of herself when Mary introduced her, as if she were total insignificant. In the portrait his large brown eyes had made her think of a deer, in reality, dressed in all-black and with a restlessness and agility to his being, he reminded her more of a panther. Not that she ever had seen one except in pictures, but he seemed just as exotic as the wild animal to her. She wondered to herself if he was dangerous too; someone to be on her guard around, like Esther had implied. Mary seemed to think nothing of the sort, smiling affectionately as he left them, and the women continued their walk.

“He has a good heart”, she said. “He can seem abrupt and absent minded like now, but he is a good man. I wish to see him settled but I fear it will not happen. I’m afraid he does not think highly of the female sex due to bruising experiences in the past.”

This made Charlotte even more curious about the contradictory Mr. Parker. One thing seemed for certain though; he was not the least curious about her.

She had met him again this evening, at the ball, and he was the sole reason for her current miserable state. She had been giddy with expectations arriving to the ball. Charlotte knew how to dance of course, she was after all brought up like a gentleman’s daughter even if her spontaneous traits sometimes made her not behave entirely ladylike, but so far she had only participated in a few country dances never a real ball like this. She had felt pretty too when she arrived in the company of the Parkers. Charlotte was not a vain girl, but she was happy about the way she looked this evening in her white dress and the new blue shoes Mary had gifted her. Not so much because she wanted to attract men, as because she wanted to fit in and be asked to dance. Oh, how she wished she would get to dace much, for she loved it.

When she entered she was overwhelmed by the beautiful ball room. It was not yet crowded, but there were still more fashionably dressed up people that she ever had seen gathered in one place before and she tried to not stare impolitely. She mingled for a while side by side with Mary and felt unusually shy, suddenly very aware of her lack of experience of events like this. When Mr. Parker pulled his wife with him in a dance, Charlotte ended up in a corner with two somewhat familiar faces, Clara Brereton and Esther Denham, and stood small-talking with them when Mr. Sidney Parker and two of his friends appeared before them. Mr. Crowe and Lord Babington originated from the London circles where Sidney moved and seemed to be set on amusement and dancing. The two invited Clara and Esther to the dance floor and for an awkward moment Charlotte and Mr. Parker were left to themselves. She had the feeling he measured her and found her inadequate somehow but felt obliged to ask her to dance even if his body language betrayed that it was the last thing he wanted. She said yes, determined to enjoy the dancing even if her partner was reluctant. It was not like he had to marry her, only spend a dance with her and if he thought that so bad he clearly took life too seriously. Charlotte noticed how stiffly he held her, as if he would have preferred not to touch her at all and how he avoided meeting her gaze. She simply turned her chin up, ignoring that he did his best to ignore her and did her part of polite conversation, decided he would not put her spirits down. Sidney Parker may be a handsome man, but he was not making a very good first, or second, impression on her.

After that dance he vanished, and Charlotte could not have cared less about losing sight of the brooding gentleman. She had warmed up now and mingled, conversated and danced until her cheeks flushed and she felt she could not smile much more because the muscles in her face were sore. It was such a lovely ball and after the initial slow start she was asked to dance repeatedly and had more fun than she ever had had.

Then she had felt the need to take a step aside, to breathe and digest it all and that was when she had come across Mr. Parker again, up on a secluded balcony. Now she wished she had not. Encouraged by his sudden attention, his unexpected interest in her thoughts, she had shared too much. Said things about his brothers that had offended him, and rightfully so. She felt ashamed to think of her own words, and even more ashamed when she replayed in her mind what he had said to her.

That she was a girl who had been nowhere and obviously learned nothing and should not criticise those who tried to do something better with their life than embroidering and playing the piano, waiting for a suitor to turn up. Of course it had not been the time and place to answer him she did none of those things, not even if she had not been so embarrassed that she was lost for words.

The truth she did not tell him, was that she did not wait for a husband to find her, she was a very poor piano player and her skills in embroidery left a lot to wish for. She had always been too impatient to practice, or too eager to explore the world outside the walls of her family home to sit still on the sofa, as her father put it. She thought herself to be somewhat good-looking, but other than that she knew she lacked qualities that made a young woman considered accomplished and truly desirable as a wife. She had no large fortune even if she would have enough to get by. She was good at shooting rabbit and deer, was a mean cricket player and read every book she came across including non-fiction about modern farming and architecture to be able to assist her father on the estate, but she was thinking and speaking her mind too much. Like now. Mr. Heywood fondly used to say she was far too curious and outspoken for her own good, but still kept bringing her new books when he went to town and always listened attentively to her opinions about how to run the estate and so in the end encouraged her to stay just as she was. He had never said so, but Charlotte knew he would never make her marry against her will, which suited her fine as she currently did not wish to marry at all and knew that the only thing that would make her inclined to ever accept a proposal was true love.

Yet, everyone here seemed to assume that finding herself a husband was her purpose for coming to Sanditon. Even Mary had implied it in all kindness when she said there might be some nice young gentlemen at the ball and now Sidney Parker had dismissed her as frivolous because she could not hold her tongue. She should not have said those things about his brothers, it was disrespectful. Mr. Parker was right to be angry, but did he really have to be so brusque? She had not meant any harm. She had apologised from the bottom of her heart, but he had not accepted that apology. Instead said he was the one at fault for having any expectations on her, implying that she had showed him that nothing was to be expected of her. She wanted to stamp her foot and tell him it was not so, she had things to say, he should not dismiss her as a nobody. She restrained herself, kept her foot still and her mouth silent. He excused himself and abruptly left her. To her relief he was not to be seen during the rest of the evening, but she could not enjoy the ball anymore.

Charlottes first impressions of Mr. Sidney Parker was that he was cold, unkind and cared little about others, but strangely his opinion of her still mattered to her even if she did not understand why. Lying in her bed, she knew that she would have to take the bull by its horns and apologise to him, if she was to put her own mind to rest. If he accepted that, perhaps she might get the chance to show him she was not quite the silly girl she knew he now had her down for.


	3. She does not care to be plucked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sidney Parker dismisses an aplogy and feels bad about it, then is surprised over what a certain young lady has to say during a pineapple luncheon

Sidney was feeling tired and grumpy this morning. It had taken him ages to fall asleep and when he finally did, vivid dreams had disturbed his rest. He could not remember for sure what those dreams were about, but he had a disturbing notion they were somehow connected to his conversation with Miss Heywood. Despite his resolve to ban her from his thoughts, she had been the last thing on his mind before he fell asleep and her devastated little face when she apologised to him was the first thing that had appeared before his eyes when he woke up. He pushed away the nagging feeling that he had been harsher to her that she deserved.

Unfortunately he would not be able escape her altogether today, because it was Sunday and he was expected to show up in church just like everyone else in town. Despite that Sidney Parker was a man who had more faith in himself than in God, he knew it would be frowned upon if he did not go. Tom depended on him to be on his best behaviour during his stay, which included keeping Tom’s largest investor Lady Denham satisfied. Sidney knew for a fact that she would be appalled if anyone did not attend church on a Sunday. He knew because he had tried it once before when he was badly hungover, and he did not want to cause the same upset ranting he had provoked that time now when he knew how critical Lady Denham’s goodwill and money were to Tom.

He sighed heavily as he swung his long legs over the edge of the bed and went on to pull a white shirt over his head. 

The things one had to put up with for family.

Not only going to church this morning but being in Sanditon at all when he had both business and pleasure awaiting him in London. He had to pretend like he enjoyed it though, to inspire Babington and Crowe to stay a while longer, but he knew it would be difficult as there was not much to entertain the boys here.

He arrived in church just in time for the sermon and slumped down on one of the pews in the back. The vicar, Mr. Hankins, was not the sharpest tool in the shed and usually incredibly tedious. Sidney listened first only with half an ear but as the vicar rambled on he grew increasingly amused and listen carefully. Today, the man had really lost the plot.

"Consider the lilies of the field. They toil not, neither do they spin. A young lady, I often think, is like a flower. And looking around me this morning, I see many lovely young ladies…”

Sidney held back a snort. He had always suspected that Hankins was lecherous under his polished vicar surface, secretly drooling over every young lady he came across.

“As it were, lilies of the fields of Sanditon. There are some lovely English roses. Pink and white.”

Sidney followed the direction of the vicar’s travelling gaze and saw it pass over the bleak Clara Brereton, then pause on none other than Miss Heywood. It disturbed him somehow that Hankins ogled her. From where he sat he could only see her profile from half behind, but perhaps to break eye contact with the creepy vicar or maybe because she sensed that Sidney too was watching her, she suddenly turned and their eyes met. He dropped his gaze almost immediately and to his vexation felt his pulse spiking. Before he looked away, he had the time to register that she indeed did look like a rose this morning; fresh with rosy cheeks and petal like lips, though her skin was slightly golden rather than white in a quite unfashionable but not unflattering manner. In place of the neat hairdo at the ball, her curly brown hair was returned to hanging lose around her shoulders. 

“And I see among us today one or two more exotic blooms…”

Now he did not need to look to know that Mr. Hankins referred to his ward, Miss Lambe. After his years in the West Indies, Sidney did not find her dark beauty that remarkable, but to most inhabitants in Sanditon the coloured young woman was truly exotic. He wished that the vicar had not singled her out like that, because he knew she was not comfortable about it. She had already complained to him how she often felt like a caged animal on display when people stared at her and it was another reason in addition to the climate to hate England. Sidney did not particularly like Miss Lambe, and he wished her father had not asked him to be her guardian when he sent her off to England to be taught to behave like the lady and heiress she was, but he still wished people would have the decency to treat her with respect. It seemed like a dark skin tone made many people forget their manners even towards someone as wealthy as Miss Lambe and he truly despised that kind of behaviour. He returned his attention to the ranting Mr. Hankins.

“And, yes, friends, there is room for them, too, in the garden of the Lord. And I say unto all you young ladies, you fulfil Jesus's will by simply blossoming and readying yourselves for the day when you shall be plucked.”

Plucked? Really? Did he just say that? Now Sidney could not keep the smirk away from his face. He noticed Miss Heywood squirming in her seat. Did she not like the idea of being plucked? Was that not what she was here for? Being plucked by a suitable husband. The vicars sermon was silly but it was a fact that marriage seemed to be the main pursuit of nearly all young ladies. And marrying money was proven to be more important than love, he bitterly reminded himself.

“You shall Yes. And now to God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

Finally, it was over. Sidney quickly got up from his seat and went outside, where he enjoyed she fresh air after the dusty church while waiting for Babington and Crowe who had been seated in the front. As he waited, he overheard a conversation between his younger brother Arthur and Miss Heywood a few steps away.

“What did you think of Mr Hankins' address, Charlotte?”

Charlotte, so that was her name.

“I didn't care for it.”

After last evening it should perhaps not surprise him that she spoke her mind, because that seemed to be an innate flaw of hers, still it amused Sidney that she did not bother to pretend she liked the pious drawl.

“I would rather be a toiler and a spinner than a lily of the field”, she continued, thereby surprising him further. When Arthur answered that he would very much like to be a lily of the field and Miss Heywood smilingly said that then she could toil and he blossom, he laughed to himself even if he still had not forgiven her for her disturbing presence and remarks. So, she did not want to spend her life as a lily of the field and be plucked. What did she want then? He could not help wondering.  
He spent the remainder of the Sunday in Babington’s and Crowe’s company, drinking, smoking and playing cards, ignoring the Sunday rest or at least not resting in the way the Bible advocated. He sensed that his friends were already getting restless and knew it would be hard to make them stay much longer. They were talking about heading back to London the following day. 

Next day, before the intended departure he went to find Tom at the construction site, to let him know they were leaving soon. As he had suspected, Tom was not willing to let him go easily.

“We counted on your staying until at least the end of the week. Lady Denham's luncheon.”

Lady Denham had sent out invitations to a luncheon in Miss Lambe’s honour, but Sidney had no intention of attending.

“There is no need for my presence.”

“Sidney, I need you here and your friends have not yet seen enough to appreciate the town's delights. You were to persuade them to take houses for the season. You know I'm relying on your associations with fashionable society.”

Sidney sighed. It was easier said than done to convince Babington and Crow to stay in a place they already found boring. He knew it would hurt his brother’s pride if he said that about his precious town, so he tried another argument.

“I have a life, Tom, many obligations you know nothing of.

“A couple of days, man.”

He was temporarily distracted when he noticed Miss Heywood standing with the foreman Young Stringer at some distance, engaged in intensive conversation and laughing like they enjoyed each other’s company. Tom beckoned his attention by repeating the said words. The pleading tone in his older brother’s voice finally got through to Sidney and he decided to give in. He could attend to his business from Sanditon and as for pleasures, they would still be there no matter when he returned. For Tom’s sake he had to put up with a few more days.

“Very well, a couple of days. I'll talk them round.”

He did not like that his brother seemed so desperately dependent on him and his friends, mostly because it implied that Tom might have serious issues with the financing of his project but also because it made Sidney feel strained. He did not want anyone to depend on him and that was also one of the reasons why he found it hard to accept his role as Miss Lambe’s guardian. Just like now, when accepting Tom’s plea, he had ended up in that role out of loyalty despite that it was the last thing he wished for. 

The conversation left him in a foul mood, and he was even less pleased when he heard a now familiar female voice calling after him as he started walking away.  
“Mr Parker, may I have a word?”

He was not in the mood for a conversation with Miss Heywood right now, far from it, but it was obvious that he would not get away. He reluctantly stopped and turned around. She stood in front of him, boldly meeting his stare, with back straight and chin held up high and the only thing that gave away that she might be slightly nervous was her quickened breathing and the speed with which her words came out.

“Our conversation at the party. I expressed myself badly and I fear you misunderstood me. I didn't mean to disparage your brother or to offend you. Indeed, I have the greatest admiration for what you and he are doing here in Sanditon. You were right to rebuke me and, indeed, I am sorry. I hope you won't think too badly of me.”  
She seemed utterly sincere and he had to admire her for being courageous enough to search him out and apologise, when she just as well could have dodged it by avoiding him the short time he stayed in Sanditon. However, he was still frustrated over Tom and her last words provoked him so his answer came out brash. He did not want her to assume he had been thinking of her. He had been thinking of her, far too much and for no good reason, but that nonsense would stop, and he would not have her think she had been on his mind for a split second.

“Think too badly of you? I don't think of you at all, Miss Heywood”, he said flatly with a disinterested expression on his face. “I have no interest in your approval or disapproval. Quite simply, I don't care what you think or how you feel. I'm sorry if that disappoints you, but there it is. Have I made myself clear?”

Sidney himself thought he had been brilliantly clear.

Miss Heywood’s apologetic face changed as he spoke; the eyes widened in surprise and shifted into almost black, her brows frowned in disbelief over the brusquely rejected apology, the lips transformed into a thin line, so she ended up looking hard and defiant. She did not flinch, back away, nor look tearful like she had the other night. Instead he got the impression that she contained an intense anger welling up inside of her. Her tone was polite but furiously cold when she spoke again.  
“Only, if you really don't care, I wonder that you take the trouble to be quite so offensive and hurtful. Good day.”

She spun around and walked away with quick steps. Sidney felt his cheeks flush as if she had slapped him and hoped it was not visible. He had not given any conscious thought to what effect his words might have before they left his mouth, but he had wanted to be offensive, had wanted to send her running so he would be rid of her company. There was something deeply unsettling about having this girl near, something in her that got under his skin and he could not stand it. Yet, the way she spoke back to him before she left made him feel ashamed and watching her leave, he knew deep inside that he was the one behaving badly now, not her. He refused to admit it though and bothered about his brother, annoyed with her and filled with unadmitted anger with himself, he stomped over to the hotel bar for drinks with Crowe and Babbers. He desperately needed one and bought rounds for his friends as part of his forced campaign to make them stay in Sanditon for a few more days.

Came Friday and Sidney was so restless that he sought out the crummy old warehouse where he knew boxing and betting usually took place in Sanditon. He was not there to bet. He was there to fight, something he did quite regularly. It was not a gentleman’s sport, but it kept him very fit and above all it had helped him to get rid of much steam over the years. He had first tried it in the West Indies, where decorum was not as strictly adhered to and he had needed the physical pain to forget the pain in his heart. He kept it secret from Tom and Mary because he knew they would be worried and appalled, but friends like Babington and Crowe just found this wild side of him entertaining. He was a skilful boxer, strong and agile, and rarely lost a fight, so even if he did not bet himself his friends liked to place bets on him. Today they were unlucky though. At a critical moment during a fight Sidney was distracted by someone calling out his name. His opponent grabbed the opportunity, took a swing on him during this attention lapse and he lost the match. The interruption vexed him and even more so when he realised he was being called upon to handle his unruly ward, Miss Georgiana Lambe, who apparently refused to attend the luncheon Lady Denham was throwing in her honour. It reminded him he was to attend the same luncheon and hurriedly he left for Miss Lamb’s house determined to make sure she made it to the lunch, even if it meant carrying her there.

Whatever steam he had gotten rid of during the boxing, his frustration was quickly built up again in the presence of the stubborn Miss Lambe, but at last he convinced her to get dressed and more or less dragged her to Lady Denham’s residence where all the other guests already where gathered. His friends were there, as well as Tom and Mary, his younger siblings Arthur and Diana, the Denham siblings and a few others and he did not know why it surprised him to find that Miss Heywood was among the guests too. It seemed Tom and Mary had taken such a fancy to the young lady that they brought her everywhere, though Sidney thought it would have been a better idea to leave her in the nursery taking care of his nephews and nieces. She looked remarkably well today he had to admit when he sneaked a sideways peak. Her hair was neatly arranged to honour the occasion and she wore a light purple dress, a colour that flattered her own natural ones and her cheeks which were flushing healthily after the walk here. She was a girl who did not seem to fear a bit of exercise in contrast to his own hypocondric sister, the dreary Miss Brereton or most women he knew come to think of it. 

He had no wish to attend this luncheon at all and to make bad things worse, Miss Heywood was seated beside him. They were nearly twenty guests for this particular luncheon, but naturally his lady to the table had to be her. There seemed to be no escaping Miss Heywood, but out of nowhere it struck him he was not so sure he even wanted to. Among the ladies around the table, Mary was the only one he rather would have been seated next to. Miss Heywood had repeatedly showed that even if she was annoying, she was at least more intriguing than he first had thought. She had opinions and reflected over things which was interesting even if somewhat misguided, so maybe he should try to enjoy this meal in her company. 

Her expression was all but pleased when she realised they were to sit next to each other, but he initiated the conversation to try to lighten things up between them. He had no intention to apologise though.

“So, Miss Heywood, any observations on the assembled company? “

“As you have no interest in my opinion, I shan't trouble you with it, Mr Parker”, she snapped. 

“I'm sure you have one. Come, share it with me.” He attempted to appease her.

“Not for the world. I've endured two tongue lashings from you, and I won't court a third. Save your unpleasantness for someone else. Or better still, why not try to be civil?” 

She was quite fiery, not only her words but her eyes were also flashing will ill-concealed anger.

“Well said. Perhaps I might.” He meant it and that was the closest he intended to stretch towards an apology.

“But not with me, pray.” 

She grimaced, then turned her back to him and started conversating with Crowe who was seated on her other side, totally ignoring Sidney. He was not sure if he was to be insulted or if he wanted to laugh. He looked down to his plate and bit his lip to hold back a smile, realising that he enjoyed the verbal battle with her. He was used to ladies of all ages always being eager to please him, striving to say the right thing and smiling at him. Miss Heywood on the contrary seemed determined to displease him as much as possible and after he rejected her apology so bluntly, she did not seem to care a fig what he thought of her. It was deliberating in a strange way.

He was stirred from his thought when Lady Denham bluntly addressed Miss Lambe, probably because she was offended by how apparently unwilling Georgiana has been to attend the luncheon. When Lady Denham had arranged a pineapple and all!

“Miss Lambe, what are your views on matrimony? An heiress with 100,000 must be in want of a husband, I think.”

“I don't care to be any man's property Lady Denham”, Miss Lambe answered in honest defiance. 

“Hoity-toity”, the old lady scoffed. “I should have thought someone like you would be quite used to being a man's property. Was not your mother a slave?”

Sidney felt himself stiffen and all his hairs stand on end. It was dead quite around the table. How on earth could Lady Denham be so impolite? 

He was impressed at how Miss Lambe held back the strong feelings that must be evoked inside her. 

“She was, but being used to a thing and liking it are not the same, my lady”, she responded with a stony face.

“I'm beginning to think you're a very opinionated young lady, Miss Lambe”, the lady said disapprovingly, then turned her attention to Miss Heywood and he felt her nearly jump beside him at the unexpected attention from the stern lady.

“What do you think, Miss Heywood?”

It took a few seconds before Miss Heywood answered and for some reason he held his breath in anticipation.  
“I know young ladies are not expected to have opinions, Lady Denham.” He exhaled in disappointment at the blank answer, but she had not finished.  
“But I think that Miss Lambe is quite right to value her independence, just as you do yours.” 

Touché. 1 point to Miss Heywood, 0 to Lady Denham.

“Don't you agree, Mr Parker?” she ambushed him by adding.

Oh no, he did not intend to be drawn into that argument and risk annoying Lady Denham when Tom wanted to keep her in a good mood.

“Miss Lambe is aware of my position on the matter”, was all he said dryly. He did not add that he was of such firm belief that a young lady should value her independence, especially if she owned a fortune, that she had prevented Miss Lambe from marrying the gold-digger the had fallen in love with in London. The reason Sidney had brought her to Sanditon was to get her out of the treacherous arms of a Mr. Molyneux who wanted to make Miss Lambe and her money his by marrying her. Unfortunately Miss Lambe did not see through his scam and she hated Sidney’s guts for separating her from Molyneux. Sidney did not care as long as he fulfilled his role to keep her safe until she came of age. After that she was free to do as she pleased, even if it meant stupidly throwing away herself and her money on a con man.

Lady Denham turned to Miss Heywood again.

“And you, miss, are you still keeping up the pretence that you are not in Sanditon in search of a wealthy man to marry and to keep you?”

Now he felt embarrassed on Miss Heywood’s account, but to his surprise she did not seem embarrassed at all. She let out a jingling happy laughter. 

“Indeed I am not, ma'am. I have no thoughts of marriage at all.” She sounded completely honest and he remember her words that she had no wish to be plucked. Lady Denham looked like she had taken a big bite of a lemon when the young girl spoke her mind, but Miss Heywood seemed oblivious, or maybe she could not stop herself anyway.

“And if I were to choose a husband, wealth would not come into it. Should not a good marriage be based on mutual love and affection? Without equality of affection, marriage can become a kind of slavery.”

Sidney almost wanted to clap his hands. There the miserable old cow got the answer she deserved. Well said Miss Heywood!

Lady Denham seemed anything but pleased at this forwardness but shifted her attention back to Miss Lambe and continued insulting her in front of everyone. Just when Sidney felt he was on the verge of exploding on Miss Lambe’s account, and could not stand another offensive word before he would have to interrupt Lady Denham even if it meant offending her, his younger brother pre-empted him, suddenly jumping up from his chair and grabbing the precious pineapple that was the centrepiece of this meal. Lady Denham had had the exotic fruit grown in the Chelsea Physics garden at a substantial cost and looked appalled when Arthur began slicing it with the intention to offer Miss Lambe a piece. 

“Mr Parker, the pineapple is not yours to cut! Mr Parker! Mr Parker, would you please put that knife down!” Lady Denham shouted almost desperatly, very unladylike.  
Arthur ignored her and continued cutting the fruit. Everyone’s eyes were on him in dismayed silence, but Sidney could barely hold back laughing. He felt Miss Heywood shaking beside him, looked down and realised she too was fighting to hold back fits of laughter. Suddenly she looked up at him and saw his ill-concealed merriness. Her sparkling eyes locked with his and they shared a moment of secret amusement before she turned to watch Arthur again, leaving Sidney feeling strangely warm inside. 

Just that second, Arthur had managed to cut the pineapple open but immediately threw it away with a gasp.

“It is rotten to the core”, he exclaimed and those closest to him gasped too when they saw the black inside, filled with horrible little white worms squirming.  
The lunch ended with that. Lady Denham was enraged at the scandalous behaviour of Miss Lambe, Miss Heywood and above all Arthur Parker. Sidney would have laughed all the way back to the hotel, had he not known how damaging this might be to poor Tom who likely was out of himself with anxiety by now.

He was growing increasingly worried for Tom’s sake, something he did not like because he wanted to stay out of his affairs as much as he could. He tried to take his mind off the whole incident playing cards with Babington and Crowe that the afternoon, and they continued with more of the same the following day. Drinking, gaming, entertaining and being entertained by women were these men’s forte, but neither that nor their conversation did anything to ease Sidney’s mind.

He felt oddly absent, his thoughts drifting off to the conversation during lunch again and again. Miss Heywood retorting to him and Lady Denham, standing up for Miss Lambe and herself, denying a wish to marry, defending the young women’s right to freedom. The moment when they had shared a laugh. He felt confused and bothered but did not know about what. He zooned in on the conversation again as the two others talked about that Babington fancied the fiery Esther Denham and Crowe teased him for it, but admitted he liked a bit of spirit in a woman.

“Little Miss Heywood, for example. She's got a bit of spunk about her”, he added, and Sidney felt his heart jolt. For some reason he did not like Crowe talking about her like that. Not one bit, but he had no reason to say anything about it.

“Or Miss Lambe”, Crowe added as an afterthought. “The way she stood up to that old witch yesterday, you can tell she'd be a lively handful in bed.”

Sidney banged his fist on the table, so the glasses rattled and made the other two startled jumped in their chairs.

“Don't even think about it, Crowe.” He warned and his friend meekly promised him not to. 

Sidney felt even more confused before, because he realised that even if his friends thought his warning referred to Miss Lambe, the ward who he had legitimate reason to be protective of like that, Sidney realised that the lady on his mind was Miss Heywood, for no valid reason at all.


	4. So this is what a man looks like

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Charlotte Heywood sees something impressive which she never has seen before

Charlotte strolled along a secluded cove, barefoot, enjoying the feeling of the pebbles, surfaces smoothened by the sea over the centuries under her soles. She felt carefree on the verge of irresponsible, because she knew a young lady should not walk here alone, should not take her shoes of or turn her face to meet the lovely warm rays of sun as they inevitably would give her an unbecoming tan, but she could not make herself care. Seldom had she felt so free. This had been a remarkable afternoon in many ways, and she did not want to end it by returning to Trafalgar house yet.

Earlier on, she had been to Lady Denham’s all by herself to apologise for speaking her mind during the luncheon yesterday. She did it for Tom Parker’s sake, because the old dragon had been so upset when she sent them home and as his guest Charlotte did not want to harm the relationship with his most important investor. Slightly intimidated upon her return to the grand house, she had found that the lady was amused by her innate outspokenness sooner than anything else. Lady Denham had chuckling told her that she liked to provoke and tease.

On her way back to Sanditon Charlotte reflected over that irritation, anger and fear might be the only feelings Lady D were able to stir in others, because no one seemed to feel the slightest affection for her. Maybe it was like she had read in one of her books; that everyone wants to be loved, failing that admired, failing that feared, failing that hated and despised. Everyone wants to make others feel something to leave their mark in this world. Suddenly she felt sorry for Lady Denham. Even with Clara around, she seemed lonely and people had clearly come to her luncheon either because they were commanded like Miss Lambe, or because they wanted something from the rich woman. Well, except Charlotte who had gone because she was curious to find out what a meal in such a fine home was like, how a pineapple looked and tasted and dying to get to know Georgiana Lambe. To Charlotte’s disappointment they had had no chance to speak to one another for real and she never got to taste the pineapple, but it had been a quite an exciting event anyway apart from the company of the abominable Sidney Parker.

At that point during the walk, her thoughts had been interrupted as she caught a glimpse of purple moving near to the edge of the cliff at some distance. It was only a brief glimpse before it disappeared, but enough to know it was a person and that that someone had continued down the steep cliff side towards the water. Charlotte thought she recognized Miss Lambe and was immediately alarmed even if she was not sure why. She hurried in the direction where the purple dot had vanished and soon saw Miss Lambe further down, unharmed but well on her way towards the water. Charlotte sensed the other young woman was not out for a pleasurable stroll and hasted downhill, felt lose stones roll under her feet and almost slipped in her urgency to reach Miss Lambe.

When she thought herself to be within hearing distance she had called out. Miss Lambe did not react at first, only continued determinedly towards the water until Charlotte finally caught up with her and grabbed her arm. When she turned, tears had been streaming down her face and she was trembling with emotion.

“Are you all right?” Such a stupid question when it was obvious she was far from, but Charlotte did not know what else to say.

“Not really. I hate it here.”

After the nasty treatment she received yesterday that was no wonder.

“I think it must be very difficult for you. I feel something of it myself. I'm a stranger here, too.”

“But people don't look at you the way they look at me.” 

“No.”

Miss Lambe had stopped moving towards the water and as they continued talking the two girls spontaneously sat down. Charlotte had comforted Miss Lambe and eventually her tears ceased falling. They had spoken of many things; of how Miss Lambe missed her home and hated the English climate, how she resented having Sidney Parker as her guardian and realised they share their animosity towards him. Miss Lambe, Georgiana resented that she had to be managed because she was in possession of a fortune, Charlotte found him impolite and cold. They had eventually laughed at how terrible Lady Denham had been the day before and agreed they could survive this together.

Giggling they had taken off their shoes and walked into the sea, dipping their feet in the water. Charlotte had told Georgiana about her adventure trying swimming from the bathing machine and promised to join Georgiana if she wanted to try it too. Too soon they had been interrupted by Mrs. Griffiths, who had been searching for Georgiana for hours, now terribly upset and out of herself with concern. Brusquely she had pulled Georgiana with her, but the girls had shared affectionate smiles, knowing they would seek each other’s company again.

Now alone again, Charlotte was happy she had made a new friend. She missed her sister Alison and even if she had become acquainted with Clara Brereton and Esther Denham, they were both in their own ways distant and difficult to understand so Charlotte did not feel particularly connected to either of them. She sensed that the friendship with Georgiana had the potential to be different, to be a true friendship and added to that, she was such an exciting personality. This promised to be the most exciting summer so far in Charlotte’s life.

Her eyes suddenly fell on a pile of clothes, neatly laid out on the pebbles out of reach from the waves. Male clothes as is appeared. How come someone had left them here?

There was a splashing sound coming from the ocean behind her. Startled she turned around, in time to see Mr. Sidney Parker emerge from the water, a sight that made her breath hitch. He shook his dark wet hair and more water streamed down along his completely naked body as he rose from the waves like some god of the sea.

For a few seconds the shocked Charlotte could not tear her gaze away, even if she knew she should. She had never seen a man undressed before and for a short while curiosity overrode dismay. Even with non-existing experience in the area she had a feeling this particular male body might be a more beautiful specimen than most and could not help but taking in the sight. He was so different from her own softly rounded female body. Mr. Parker was supremely fit, boxing and other exercising had made sure of that. His frame was lean, looking hard and strong, almost triangle shaped because the shoulders were so much broader than his narrow waist. The outlines of the muscles were visible everywhere; along the shoulders, the arms and his impressively well-developed chest, and dividing the flat stomach into a pattern of squares. There was a dusting of dark, damp hair on said stomach leading down to... Oh, dear Lord!

Charlotte finally came to her senses and turned away before he caught her looking, but it did not help much. The sight of him was etched on her retina. Her heart was pounding hard and she felt flushed, not only her cheeks but all over. Being a country girl, she had inevitably seen farm animals mate, so even if no one had talked to her about such things she had a vague idea that men and women might be doing something similar to procreate. Still, learning that a man looked like that down there was the most shocking part of the whole experience.

By now he had noticed her and spoke to her back. She was grateful that at least he could not see her heated cheeks or that she was hyperventilating .

“Oh Miss Heywood. Am I never to get away from you?” he drawled.

Did he have to be so sarcastic? Surely he must understand this was a very unfortunate coincidence and she was well and truly embarrassed to be in his naked presence.

“Mr Parker, I assure you you're the last person I wish to see.”

It was true for any version of him and especially a very naked one, or at least she told herself so even if seeing him like that also was disturbingly exciting somehow.

”You're right, I spoke out of turn. Forgive me.”

She almost turned around to face him then, out of sheer surprise that he had apologised to her. That was a first from this man and by now she had dismissed him as incapable of behaving with any degree of civility, at least towards herself. She could not and should not stay around though. In addition to feeling all nervous and embarrassed, her reputation would be ruined if someone came by and found her with a naked man, no matter if it was completely involuntary.

”Of course. Excuse me.”

With back still turned to him, she did what any sensible lady already would have done; ran. Fled. Sprinted until she was panting, gasping for air and her side burned. She ran to get away, but her feet did not take her in the direction of Trafalgar house. She needed to be alone and calm down before she could meet the Parker family, before she could look them in the eyes with the knowledge that she had seen Tom’s brother, Mary’s son-in-law in the nude. God, she was so embarrassed and ashamed!

Charlotte ran until she reached the wide sand beach where a few people were walking, enjoying the afternoon sun, but thankfully no one she knew, and she finally slowed down. She did not want them to think her completely crazy, Sanditon was after all a quite small town and if she ran like a maniac on the beach word would likely spread. She continued walking at a more normal pace, with her arms wrapped protectively around her own thin frame. Eventually her pulse slowed down too.

As she calmed down she began to re-evaluate the situation. Why should she be embarrassed? He was the one who had not worn a thread on his body, not her. He was the one who had chosen to swim were people might come walking. She had done nothing wrong. A little smile spread over her face. Was it possible that Sidney Parker was embarrassed now? He should be.

She could not help reminiscing the sight of him naked. So, that was how a man looked. Or at least something like that. Even with clothes on it was easy to tell that Mr. Arthur’s form was much fuller and softer and Mr. Tom was thinner and less muscular. Just like women, men came in all sizes and shapes apparently. Even if she did not like Sidney Parker’s personality one bit, she had to bashfully admit that she found his body to be… tantalizing and total perfection. She tried to stop her thoughts from running wild but realised with dismay that she wanted to let her fingers wander over that stomach, feel the ridges of his abs, the softness of the trail of hair, let her palms slide over that chest to know if it felt like it looked. She was curious to know if his skin was smooth or rough, if he felt warm or as cold as he behaved. She wondered about what was between his thighs. Was that to be used with a woman, or was that meant for something else entirely? Then she shook her head, trying to clear it from forbidden thoughts. She should not be having thoughts like this. She was not sure a true lady even should think like this about her husband. If she ever married she would know soon enough, but until then she should forget all about this. It was just so very hard not to picture him, like he had looked emerging from the water. He had been so beautiful in the soft afternoon light with droplets glimmering everywhere. It was a pity that a handsome appearance like that did not come with a kind personality.

She was hoping with increasing intensity that he would decide to leave Sanditon very soon, even if she knew that would disappoint Tom. Because how would she ever be able to face Sidney Parker again without thinking of what he looked like underneath his clothes?


	5. Is it conceivable I had her wrong?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which an embarrassed and hungover Sidney Parker is forced to remain in Sanditon and finds himself in situations where he is positively surprised by Miss Heywood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this mostly for my own amusement, but much appreciated if you let me know what you think.

His tongue was glued to his dry palate and he could taste his own foul breath. When he sat up, a splitting headache hit him and he had to fight off a wave of nausea. It was bright morning, but Sidney found himself to still be in the bar of the Crowne hotel where he had downed one too many bottles of wine with Babington and Crowe last night. Obviously he had passed out here at some point but could not clearly remember the end of the evening. All he knew was that he had been drinking to forget. Forget how rattled and embarrassed he had been by the encounter with Miss Heywood. For Christ’s sake, she had seen him completely naked! 

He had never been naked in the company of a lady before. With women, yes, but not any lady and certainly with no woman whose opinion really mattered to him. Wait, rewind. What had just passed through his mind? Befuddled Sidney shook his head, which was a big mistake because the throbbing grew stronger and he groaned, leaning his head in his palms. Why did she of all people have to come by and exactly how much had she seen? He would never know. When he had blinked away the water from his eyes she had been standing on the shore with her back turned to him, clearly aware of his presence so she had seen something of him for sure. Probably far too much because even from behind he could see that her ribcage was heaving from upset breathing. Their conversation had been brief, he had barely managed to apologise before she took for the hills, running faster than he ever had seen any woman run. It was quite impressive actually. He hoped he had not frightened her. He knew he must have embarrassed her and wished he had not. He hoped she did not think too badly of him, maybe it was in that moment he had realised that for some reason it mattered what this opinionated and passionate girl thought even if he had told her the contrary not long ago.

The bar was empty, but his drunken sleep had been disturbed by noises from the construction works across the street and now Babington and Crowe came barging in.

“I told you he’d still be here. Look at the state of him, Babbers.”

“A wretched sight indeed.”

Judging by how he felt Sidney knew they were not exaggerating.

“Is that not what Miss Heywood said when she ran into you by the cove?”

His two friends looked at each other grinning wide and he wished them somewhere burning hot and unpleasant where sinners like them belonged, at least if one were to believe Mr. Hankins’s sermons.

“I should never have told you.”

He had regretted it already as he had confessed it, realising they would tease him forever, but he had to tell someone, and he could hardly tell Tom that he had shown himself naked to his protégé. Mary would never forgive him and would probably send Miss Heywood home instantly, which might be for the better come to think of it. Then he would not have to face her again.

“You know Sidney, this has been pleasurable enough and your adventures with little Miss Heywood are certainly entertaining, but we feel it is time to head back to London today. I need a change of environment and Babbers has no luck in his advances to Miss Denham anyway. Will you join us or are you too hungover?”

“He is probably still drunk”, Babington chipped in. 

“Give me an hour and I’ll be ready to depart. I need to go and find my brother first.”

He put on his black coat and hat, feeling far from fresh and in dire need of a shave but wanted the conversation with Tom to be over and done with as soon as possible.

His head still pounded, sharp and heavy when he arrived at Trafalgar house, adding to his bad mood. He was not looking forward to telling Tom the news because he knew his brother would be disappointed and accusing, probably once again try to convince him not to leave. It turned out he was right. Already in the hallway, before they moved into the office, Tom started objecting, not ready to let Sidney leave without putting up a fight.

“I told you explicitly that we had to go back to London.”

“Dammit, Sidney. Did my words mean nothing to you?”

“I cannot force them to stay, Tom.” He wondered how his brother sometimes could be so blind. Sanditon was beautiful, but it was a small town with few amusements.  
“How am I to fill these empty houses, Sidney? I confess, I am relying… Charlotte?”

His brother interrupted himself and alarmed, Sidney followed his gaze. Miss Heywood was crouching under the desk for some reason. 

“There it is!” she exclaimed as she almost jumped to upright position, but he had a strong suspicion she had been hiding from him rather than looking for something.  
Damn woman, why did she keep crossing his path so inconveniently? Hiding under the desk suggested that she wanted to meet him just as little as he wanted to meet her though. It was funny in a way, resourceful even. He had never come across a lady hiding under a desk before. There seemed to be many firsts with Miss Heywood, and he was not entirely sure if it was a good thing or a bad, or perhaps a bit of both. Ought he to apologise again for yesterday? He could not do it in the presence of Tom anyway so he could allow himself to think about it for a while. Maybe it was for the better to pretend like nothing, talking about it would probably just make bad things worse.

“Miss Heywood. Always popping up when least expected”, was all he said dryly. Annoyed he registered that his own palms suddenly were clammy. Simultaneously he noticed the pink tinge appearing on her cheeks and thought it was not unbecoming.

“I'll leave you to it, gentlemen.” She looked like she wanted to retort to him but swallowed it and instead excused herself and left them. He was relieved and disappointed in equal measures, though confounded as to why he would feel disappointed at all. He shook it off and turned to Tom again.

“Look, the fact of the matter is, there is simply not enough to tempt them here. They need more… They need more entertainment.”

“Sidney.”

“I'm sorry, Tom. But we leave this morning.”

He hated to disappoint Tom, but he also disliked being too involved in his affairs. Tom always had grand schemes, one idea crazier than the previous and more costly too. In the past Sidney had invested money in Tom’s ventures and lost it. He would not repeat that mistake. He tried to help him in other ways because he truly wanted his brother to succeed, both for his own and his lovely family’s sake, but there was only so much he could do. He had his own business he could not neglect for long either. Still, he had a bad conscience for leaving Tom behind and was therefore feeling moody when he, Babington and Crowe later stood waiting for the coach to London. 

His brooding was interrupted when Mrs. Griffiths’ maid came running and handed him a note, with a request from Mrs. Griffiths to deal with his ward who apparently had painted a naked man swimming in the sea. Sidney’s cheeks flushed with anger and shame; anger at Miss. Lambe’s inappropriate behaviour and shame because this meant that Miss Heywood had told Miss Lambe about the embarrassing encounter, thus inspired her to the painting. He prayed Mrs. Griffiths did not know about it too. Somehow he had thought Miss Heywood would keep the unfortunate incident to herself but once again she had proven herself a mindless girl. His blood boiled when he told his friends he would have to remain in Sanditon another day to deal with his feral ward. He hoped he would at least be able to avoid Miss Heywood, but alas.

-o-  
The following evening Sidney still found himself lingering in Sanditon, feeling a bit like his world had been turned upside down. He could honestly not say when he last had felt this confused. 

He had started the day still disturbed by Miss Heywood. There really was no escaping her. He had run into her, quite literally, when he went to deal with Georgian Lambe. When he fuming had left his ward, he had bumped into Miss Heywood, their bodies clashing abruptly and hard as he turned a corner in Miss Griffiths’ hallway. He had grabbed hold of her to steady them both, tried looking at her with cold disapproval for the bad influence he thought she exerted on Georgiana, but he had felt anything but cold. The brief contact of their bodies had an alarming effect on him. This time he felt like he was the one fleeing from her when he let go and abruptly left. 

Then in this morning, as he was enjoying a quiet moment, reading the newspaper in Tom’s office she had appeared like a Jack in the box again, making him roll his eyes at her. 

“The ubiquitous Miss Heywood. Can't I even read the news in peace?”

“If you don't wish to be disturbed, you might choose somewhere more secluded”, she answered impertinently. She really was too cheeky for a well-behaved lady.  
“Yes, well, I tried that. It wasn't entirely successful.”

He was somehow pleased to see he made her flush again, but his musing did not last for long when Tom appeared and insisted he joined to Lady Denham’s where some German doctor, Dr. Fuchs’s, was to demonstrate his excellence. Sidney thought the idea that a doctor was what Sanditon needed foolish. A doctor no matter how skilled and famous would hardly make fashionable people travel to Sanditon, only hypochondriacs like his own younger siblings. More pleasures were what was needed. Yet, he found himself to once again be persuaded to do as Tom wished and when the doctor’s demonstration of a shower bath had turned into a fiasco, making Lady Denham kick him out of her house, Sidney vexed had found he had missed the daily London coach again to no avail. 

Frustrated he had gone for a walk on the beach to get away from his family, and perhaps also to avoid Miss Heywood but the minute he returned to Sanditon high street he had been involved in a bloody mess. Unsurprisingly, it involved Miss Heywood. Unsurprisingly in the sense that once again she crossed his path, but very surprising indeed when it came to how she acted. 

The stone mason, Mr. Stringer, had fallen from a height at the construction site, git his head and injured his leg badly. The leg was clearly broken, and blood was pumping out from a deep wound. When Sidney came by minutes after the accident had occurred, his son, young Stringer was already by his side, but so was Miss Heywood. Intrepid, she had kneeled beside the injured man, talking soothingly to him and immediately identified that the bleeding had to be stopped. To Sidney’s utter surprise she had attempting ripping a bandage from her own petticoat and when she was unsuccessful, demanded that Sidney did it for her. Slightly hesitant he had obeyed and torn a long strip from it, which she immediately took from him and with nimble fingers tied hard around the old man’s leg. It appeared it was not the first time she was faced with a situation like this.

“That should do it”, she had said to Sidney. 

He was still slightly shocked by the inappropriate but somehow thrilling act of ripping her petticoat, revealing her stocking clad, well-shaped leg for a moment, but even more taken by her calmness and presence of mind. There was no sign of her being frightened or near fainting, which would have been the natural reaction for most ladies at a grim sight like this. 

Together with young Stringer they had brought the old man to Trafalgar house and someone had fetced the doctor. Strangely, Miss Heywood had been the one taking charge, ordering a table to be prepared, requested clean sheets and boiled water, remaining unmoved when old Stringer shouted, ‘Don't let them take my leg!’, knowing his livelihood depended on it. 

When the doctor arrived and stated it looked as bad as something from the battlefield, it would have been perfectly acceptable for her to make an exit, but she insisted on staying to help. 

“Now, this will not be pretty, fraulein, you might want to turn your head away”, the doctor said with concern.

She had frowned in the way that was starting to become very familiar to Sidney, like she was focused, pondering over something, perhaps a bit annoyed and prepared to speak her mind.

“I'm not afraid of a little blood.”

Then she went on to hold Stringer’s blood smeared face, feeding him whiskey to numb the pain, talking reassuring words to him. She had drilled her eyes into Sidney’s and told him to hold the man’s hand and he had obediently done as he was told. Her gaze returned to Stringer’s face, but Sidney’s remained fixed on her, fascinated by her. Not even when the doctor set the man’s leg with a cracking sound and Stringer screamed out in pain, she flinched one bit. Before this day, Sidney did not even know women were capable of being this courageous. He was… impressed.

Afterwards, she had gone out to young Stringer who had been told to wait on the street and reassured him everything would be fine, seeming less shaken by the whole thing than Sidney himself was. When he joined her on the street and found her with young Stringer, something flashed in him. A feeling, he was not sure what, but he did not like seeing her with him and when Stringer went inside to his father Sidney stopped her from joining him immediately.

She looked quizzically at him and he felt his blood swish in his ears.

“I must admit, Miss Heywood, you, err… have given a good account of yourself today.”

She stared at him with raised eyebrows, probably because he never had been close to complimenting her before.

“I should never have expected you to be so, err capable”, he continued, suddenly feeling very insecure about himself. 

“Because I'm a young woman? Or because up until now you'd dismissed me as frivolous?” she took a step closer, turning her little face up to him in an innocent yet provocative look.

“Well, a little of both, I dare say”, he admitted and felt like a fool. “Forgive me.”

During the silent beats that followed he held his breath.

“How can I not? Since I am equally guilty of dismissing you.

She gave him a totally disarming, sweet smile and he exhaled. He was forgiven it seemed and a strange sensation of relief seeped through his body.

“Oh? And what exactly have I done to deserve such condemnation?” He felt the corners of his mouth tug upwards in a smile. He did not smile that often these days and it was an unusual sensation. He quite liked it.

“Well… You always seem so reluctant to help Tom.”

That remark felt like a knife to his heart, maybe because he had a bad conscience for not doing more than he did and now planned to leave for London.

“Oh, that's hardly fair. I've done all I can for my brother.”

“Have you? And if I may? You've hardly proven yourself a sympathetic guardian to Miss Lambe.”

Oh, dammit, did she have to bring up Miss Lambe too?

“Well, a guardian shouldn't need to be sympathetic. My task is to see that she is taught to behave like a lady.”

“That's the least of it. Georgiana is miles from home, and you are the closest thing she has to…” She interrupted herself, he wished she had not. He found he wanted to know what she had to say. “Now you'll tell me I'm speaking out of turn again and you do not care a fig what I have to say.” 

She sighed and looked adorably apologetic combined with defiant.

“No. I invited your opinion, and, actually, for once. I think there is some small value in what you say.”

His voice was unusually soft, and he felt a warm smile spread over his face. What was happening to him? He was so used to wearing a mask of cynicism and keeping people at a distance that this conversation suddenly felt like a fresh experience.

“Coming from you, I shall own that as the greatest compliment imaginable.”

She shot him another charming smile and started walking away, but he was not prepared to let her go yet. It was about time he apologised.

“Ah, Miss Heywood, erm I've been meaning to say, I… Our meeting down at the coves, I hope you weren't too embarrassed.”

She looked him straight in the eyes and answered without any sign of embarrassment in her voice.

“Why should I be embarrassed? I was fully clothed.”

He was not sure if he wanted to laugh, cry or bury himself somewhere out of pure embarrassment. He had been right after all, he never should have brought it up. It only made things worse.

“Yes. Very good point. Well, it was hardly fair of you to, err, ambush me like that.”

“I can assure you, it was not deliberate on my part.” She looked so amused and Sidney wanted to sink through the ground.

“Nor mine.”

“Well, then.” Her smile, so mischievous. Her hazel eyes, also twinkling with mischief. In that instant, Sidney found her quite irresistible.

“Well, then”, was all he responded but his heart was thumping hard in his chest.

“Good day.”

She left him and he returned to the hotel, feeling like someone had pulled a rug away under his feet. Unbalanced. Falling.

Later that afternoon, Mary had asked him if he would not bring the children with him down to the river to play and he had agreed, both because he relished spending some more time with his nephews and nieces before returning to London and because it was a welcome distraction from the events earlier.

As a remedy to distract his thought from Miss Heywood, the excursion to the river turned out to be futile, because she had joined them there.

It was so strange. When he saw her come walking over the green meadow with her hair moving in the wind under the bonnet, bestowing him the loveliest smile free from caution, he felt a warm glowing ball was forming inside his chest and he realised he welcomed her presence. Their conversation had been light, the animosity between them vanished and he wanted it to stay like that. Very much. The children obviously loved to have Miss Heywood, or Admiral Heywood as they called her, around and this playful, serene moment sailing the children’s toy boats had been a new experience for Sidney together with a woman. He had felt relaxed and happy in a way he never had before. He did not know what to make of it, he just knew he did not want it to end. He could have stayed in this moment forever.

Miss Heywood’s thoughts seemed to go beyond the present and she had come up with the terrific idea of arranging a regatta in Sanditon. As soon as she said it, he knew it was brilliant and had encouraged her to share it with Tom. His brother had thought it equally brilliant and in his usual manner quickly forgotten that it was someone other than him who had had the inspired notion. Sidney was not too bothered this time, because Miss Heywood did not seem to mind, and it was a relief to see his brother in good spirits again. Overjoyed Tom had brought the family to the beach, too energized by the vision of the regatta to stay confined in Trafalgar house even if dusk was closing in. He had urged Sidney and Miss Heywood to come along and for once Sidney had not felt he wanted to object.

This was how Sidney found himself walking side by side on the beach with Miss Heywood, enjoying the pinkish late afternoon light reflect on the waves, in her eyes and play softly over her delicate features. Again, he felt relaxed and happy.

On a whim, he asked her if she would keep an eye on Miss Lambe for him when he was gone. He did not trust his ward to stay out of trouble one bit, but he could not stay around and watch her constantly either. Miss Heywood had proven today she was a resource to count on.

“I wonder if I might presume to ask a favour?”

“Of me?” she sounded delightfully surprised. 

“Extraordinary as it might sound, I do believe you're better positioned than almost anyone. Would you keep an eye on Georgiana for me? See that she's kept out of mischief.”

“I thought you considered me to be a bad influence.”

He had. Now he had changed his mind quite dramatically. What a difference a day could make.

“Well is it conceivable that we've had each other wrong Admiral Heywood?” 

She broke up in a genuine smile reflecting his and there was a flutter in the pit of his stomach.

“How long will you be absent?” 

“At least a week. I have some business matters I have to attend to.”

A fleeting expression passed on her face. Disappointment? He could not be entirely sure, but it stirred a pleasant, fuzzy, warm feeling inside him. A feeling that had been completely unknown to him for so long. 

This was the reason why Sidney was so confounded this last evening before his departure from Sanditon. He had been desperate to leave the town and return to London, desperate to get away from Miss Heywood. Now he found that he wanted neither and he did not understand why.


	6. How to know if to trust one’s first impression, or second

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Charlotte Heywood sees new sides of Sidney Parker’s personality, for a while quite likes him but ends up furious like never before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your kind comments to this story, they are truly appreciated. I hope you enjoy this chapter.
> 
> /Miss P

If Sidney was bewildered when he left Sanditon, so was Charlotte Heywood and she became increasingly so in his absence.

Meeting him again in Trafalgar house the morning after the chance encounter by the coves, caused a mixture of feelings to well up inside her. It made her instinctively try to escape in the most ridiculous way, by hiding under Tom’s desk when she heard Sidney’s deep voice in the hallway, only to cause her further embarrassment when she was discovered. For a brief moment they eyed one another, and a tingling not altogether unpleasant sensation spread throughout her body. He looked a bit rough this morning, as if he had slept badly and not taken the time to shave, but she had to admit that the dark shadow on his chin suited him and he was as handsome as ever. His vest and his trousers were as always perfectly fitted to his lean frame and the silhouette now reminded Charlotte of what he looked like underneath. Just as she had feared this forbidden knowledge was not easily buried. 

When he with a smirk remarked that she always seemed to pop up when least expected, she came to her senses, excused herself and hastily left, even if she really ached to tell him that she was not the one appearing out of the sea naked. It would not have been a suitable comment coming from a young lady and it would have exposed the incident to Tom, which was the last thing she wanted. He and Mary would probably put her on the first coach back to Willingden if they knew and there were so many things yet to explore here in Sanditon, including her newformed friendship with Georgiana Lambe. She was far from ready to leave. So, she sensibly held her tongue and only shot him one last defiant look then made her escape before doing anything she regretted.

Soon however, unexpected events were to turn everything around. There was an incident involving old Mr. Stringer and they were forced together, Sidney Parker and her, and surprisingly worked as a team. He astonished her in many ways over a few intense hours, showing her there was no way of predicting the actions of this man. When they had brought old Stringer to Trafalgar house, Charlotte overheard him speaking to his son, young Mr. Stringer, sympathetically comforting him and telling him to leave when they set his father’s broken leg so he would not have to witness his pain. This was so different from the cold, distant personality Mr. Parker had displayed on numerous occasions, now instead showing himself compassionate and thoughtful. Even in the midst of the chaos of the accident, it left Charlotte confused to find him so caring.

She braced herself, expected him to ask her to leave too, say this was no place for a woman and prepared to object, but he tried nothing of the sort. Instead he listened to what she said, did as she told him and looked at her with a new expression … she thought maybe it was approval. Oddly it caused a flutter in the pit of her stomach. When it was all over, he even told her he she had given a good account of herself and admitted that she had turned out to be more capable than he had expected. Even if this implied he did not expect anything of her to begin with, he impressed her by owning up to his mistake, by willingly admitting she had made him change his mind about her. She was amazed when he asked her forgiveness for dismissing her before. For the first time, there was a smile in his eyes when he looked down on her, then even one playing on his lips. It did strange things to her insides.

Charlotte was too inexperienced and naïve to be intentionally coquette. If anyone had asked her how to flirt she would have said she did not know how, and she would never attempt it with a man like Sidney Parker. Yet there was a thrilling, fun lightness to the end of their conversation outside Trafalgar house, which made her flush from the feelings Mr. Parker evoked in her and the effect she somehow seemed to have on him. 

She had liked the way his expression transformed. How his stern face softened, the jawline became less tight, and his eyes shifted from the usual near black to a warm, deep brown. His voice sounded amused rather than strained or annoyed and he took a step or two towards her instead of stiffly moving away from her as he always had done up to now. She did not understand the cause of this transformation or even register all of it consciously, but subconsciously she noticed it all and responded to it with her sweetest smile and by biting her lower lip in the most enthralling way. Charlotte Heywood was totally oblivious of her own flirtatious charm and therefore all the more delightfully charismatic. All she knew was that when she left Sidney Parker there in the street, she suddenly liked him more than before and had a feeling it might be mutual. 

That feeling was enforced down by the river later that afternoon. He actually looked pleased when she joined him and the children there. His eyes were as warm as before and his smile even wider. She in turn, liked the way he was with the children, attentively playing with them and inviting her to join, allowing her to see a new side of him. She had the fleeting thought that he likely would make a more present father than his own brother whose mind always seemed to be occupied elsewhere, probably in his grand visions for Sanditon. No matter how much Charlotte admired Tom’s vision, she remained firm in the opinion he was neglecting his lovely family on the account of it and she wondered how Mary could be so patient. She knew that if she ever married, it would have to be with a man who had his eyes on what was right before him, rather than on a distant, promising but illusive future. Of course she knew that men had important duties that demanded their attention and could not always be with their family, but she would want a man who was present in the moment when he was with her. Much in the way Sidney was that afternoon. Never had she expected that Sidney in any aspect would turn out an ideal for how she imagined her possible future husband.

Actually, she was the one whose thoughts drifted away from their togetherness, joining the bark boats down the stream and suddenly she envisioned a full-fledged regatta. He perceptively noticed the shift in her, asked to know what was on her mind, listened to her and took her idea seriously. He encouraged her to tell Tom about it and unlike his brother, did not take any credit for it. For the umpteenth time that day he amazed her. He was acting so differently from what she previously had come to expect from him and she appreciated it very much.

-o-  


Is it conceivable that we had each other wrong?

He had asked that question later the same evening, when they walked side by side on the beach. The words were accompanied by a genuine smile, making the corners of his eyes crinkle charmingly. It made him look years younger and the fading light from the slowly setting sun softened his features further. He had taken off his hat allowing the sea breeze to freely play with his hair and, again, he seemed to enjoy her company.

Indeed so it seemed, that she might have had him wrong like he had her. Perhaps she had been to her hasty forming a judgement then only looked for signs that cemented that impression. She had thought him to be the sensible one of the three brothers, but also cold and unkind. Now it seemed perhaps only sensible held true. Normally, Charlotte trusted her first impressions to be right, but here in Sanditon she found herself in unknown territory and she begun to realise that people in the world outside Willingden were more complex that she had realised, not wholly good or wholly bad, but a bit of both. Was it possible that Mr. Sidney Parker was both the unstable and unreliable man Esther had claimed and deep inside hid a good heart like Mary was convinced? 

Alone in her chambers this evening, Charlotte felt exhilarated and restlessly happy. She accredited it to the regatta; for having provided the kernel to Tom’s idea, made him so enthusiastic and received praise for that, and for the prospect experiencing such an exciting event. It would be such great fun when the idea came to life and she hoped to be part of it. 

In truth, there was also something else in addition to the regatta, something at the back of her mind she could not quite put her finger on. She tried reading a book but could not focus; she sat down by the mirror to brush her hair but was lost in her own mirror image wondering how a man, no one specific, might find her looks; she lay down in her bed but kept twisting and turning unable to fall asleep. She wondered; if Sidney Parker thought he had been wrong when he found her a frivolous girl with no opinions that mattered, what did he think of her now that he had changed his mind? She knew he was leaving for London in the morning without any set date for a return and she wondered if she would see more of him this summer, or if the walk on the beach was to be the last she saw of him. Perhaps he would return for the regatta if not earlier. Then he might seek her out to hear if Georgiana had been doing well in his absence, as he had entrusted Charlotte to keep an eye on her in his absence. This idea seemed to slow down her spinning thoughts and finally she fell asleep.

-o-

‘We are forbidden from seeing each other. By whom? My wretched guardian. Who else? … You should ask your friend Sidney Parker about his time in Antigua. He was glad enough to turn a blind eye to slavery when there was money to be made … I must ask, for the life of me, I cannot think what Sidney's objection to you could be? Is it not obvious? Look at him.’

Walking back to Sanditon from the picknick in the amazing bluebell fields with Georgiana and her love Otis Molyneux, their earlier dialogue echoed in her head and Charlotte was utterly confused. What Georgiana and Otis had told her about Sidney during the course of this afternoon, had made her doubt her impression of him again.

He had forbidden his ward from seeing Otis, despite that Charlotte had seen clear proof this day that the two were infatuated with each other. Otis seemed to be the epitome of a man in love and according to Georgiana, Sidney objected to the match because of the colour of Otis’ skin. Mr. Molyneux seemed to be a true gentleman, which made Charlotte fear there might be no other valid explanation than Mr. Parker actually being that prejudiced and petty. He had even forced Georgiana away from London to achieve separating the two, so he certainly had something against Otis. Even worse than such abominable prejudice, they implied that Sidney’s business in Antigua involved slavery and that his fortune was built upon it. No honourable man would ever involve himself in such shameful trade even if money was to be made. Charlotte knew that and could only hope they were mistaken. Not even when she thought the worst of him she had thought him capable of involving himself in something like that. She hoped Sidney would prove them wrong when she met him next, something she had been looking forward to since his departure.

Even with this confounding information, the three had spent the loveliest afternoon together. Otis’ appearance had been a surprise to Charlotte as Georgiana had told her nothing of him before but turned out to be a pleasant one. He and Georgiana seemed to be made for each other. Never had Charlotte seen a couple so openly display their affection; speaking unmasked words of love, exchanging fiery looks, holding hands, almost kissed. She had blushed numerous times in their presence, unused to such physical contact between man and woman and obvious passionate longing for more, but despite being slightly uncomfortable she also enjoyed herself. The more time she spent with the couple, the more she realised she was on their side. If Mr. Parker had forbidden them from seeing each other, he clearly had not understood the true, beautiful feelings that sparked between them. If he could only be made to see that, he would surely come around. Would he not? Perhaps Charlotte could assist in this, she thought. Make him realise this was another case where he had been mistaken and convince him he had to allow Georgiana to marry Otis. She could talk to him upon his return and explain. She felt quite invigorated by this inspired idea and was in a splendid mood when they returned to Sanditon where Otis was to take the London coach before his presence became known to Mrs. Griffiths.

Because she was in such good spirits Charlotte jested more than usual. She made a jolly imitation of Mrs. Griffiths and when that sent her friends into fits of laughter, she went on to imitating Sidney, something she could do very well because she had observed him more carefully than she had anyone else.

“You see, Georgiana, this is exactly why I locked you away in Mrs Griffiths' dungeon.” She pretended to be smoking a cigar, squinting her eyes whilst she exhaled the imaginary smoke in the manner that Sidney used to. “Keep you out of mischief while I, Sydney Parker, am gallivanting around London with my high society dandy friends.”

Georgiana kept laughing, but Otis who looked over Charlotte’s shoulder suddenly froze. 

“Stop”, he said.

“No, do go on.”

Another male, familiar voice cut through and made Charlotte freeze too, though her heart began thumping hard in her chest. 

“I am intrigued to hear what I might say next.”

She turned to meet the eyes of the subject of her imitation and felt like sinking through the crust of the earth. There was no hint of a smile on his face, no sign he found this remotely entertaining. All there was, was cool anger and contempt. Well, perhaps disappointment too and Charlotte resented herself for giving him reason to be disappointed in her. That feeling was quickly replaced with dismay and outrage when he turned to Otis and spoke without trying to conceal his disapproval.

“Mr Molyneux. You are the very last person I'd expect to find in Sanditon.”

“Forgive me, sir. I would have notified you of my visit, but I can't be certain of the welcome I would receive.”

“Oh, you could be entirely certain. My position has not changed, nor will it”, Sidney almost spat. “Mrs Griffiths, Miss Lambe must not see this man again.” 

His voice was filled with angry resolve and Charlotte flinched. The disappointment learning that Georgiana had been right about Sidney wrenched her heart. 

“And if I see you within a mile of my ward, I will not be held responsible for my actions. Am I understood?” He stepped closer to Otis, threateningly looming over him.

“Perfectly”, the other man answered weakly, but his voice was filled with equal contempt.

“Mrs Griffiths kindly take Miss Lambe back to her lodgings”, Sidney now ordered brusquely. 

This finally stirred Charlotte from the temporary paralysation, caused by the unexpected appearance of Mr. Parker combined with embarrassment over being caught red-handed not fulfilling her promise to look after Georgiana for him. 

“Wait! You could at least allow them a proper parting”, she protested.

“Thank you, Miss Heywood, this is none of your concern”, Sidney snapped in return.

Here they were clearly in disagreement. How could he be so heartless as to not even allow two people in love to say goodbye when it was uncertain if they ever would meet again? If he had his way the surely would not. How could anyone be so cruel? She was filled with disappointment and fury, not only for the lover’s sake, but because she had begun to think well of him and now he showed his true self and proved to be just as bad as Georgiana and Otis had told her. He must have noticed her look of disapproval, because defensively he continued.

“Did we not agree that you would look out for Georgiana? Keep her out of trouble.“ He grunted frustratedly. “I should have known you weren't to be trusted.”

This was all the more provoking because in part he was right, she had not done what he asked of her. But how could she when he was the one in the wrong here? Keeping Georgiana and Otis apart was nothing less than cruel.

“And I should have known, despite your professed concern, you care nothing for her happiness!” she raised her voice and her eyes flashed, now as dark as his.

“I would ask you to refrain from making judgements about a situation you don't understand.”

“I understand perfectly well.”

“Oh, of course you do, even though you've known Georgiana but a handful of weeks, and him a matter of hours.”

The disdain in his voice made her want to stamp her foot, he clearly did not credit her with any intelligence at all.

“That was time enough to learn that Mr Molyneux is as respectable a gentleman as I have ever had cause to meet.”

“You seem to find it impossible to distinguish between the truth and your own opinion!” he raised his voice too, rapidly losing his temper and the little patience he had left.

Charlotte knew she ought to back away and not cause a public scene here on the street, but this was too scandalous to keep quiet and just accept it.

“The truth! You wish to speak of the truth, Mr Parker? The truth is you're so blinded by prejudice that you would judge a man by the colour of his skin alone.”

She saw him flinch as if she had slapped him and it pleased her to see that her words at least had some kind of effect.

“You speak out of turn.” His eyes seemed to drill inside her telling her to shut her mouth, but she was too incensed to stop.

“But why should I expect any better from a man whose fortune is tainted with the stain of slavery?”

“That is enough! I do not need to justify myself to you”, Sidney shouted making the heads of by-passers turn to them. 

Still trembling with fury, Charlotte knew she had gone too far. His reaction proved that she had pressed on a sensitive spot, that this indeed was the horrible truth, but she should not have challenged him so publicly. It was not the way things were to be done in fashionable society. She was his brother’s guest and showed him no decorum. Whatever small grain of friendship there had been between them, that was certainly gone now and suddenly she felt like crying instead of arguing. 

They stared each other out for a few heart beats, breathing in the same upset pace, then he averted his gaze as if looking for a way out and called for James Stringer, who she now noticed was observing them with a concerned expression at some distance. 

“Mr. Stringer, will you please accompany Miss Heywood to Trafalgar house.”

He was sending her away as if she were a difficult child. Hateful man, how she resented him in this moment. Her blood boiled and she wanted to step into him and bang her fists on his chest, make him see he was being totally unreasonable, but he turned his back to her and left without bestowing her another look. He left her to herself with all her overwhelming emotions.

She needed a walk to cool down and when she asked, James Stringer kindly joined her along the beach, but as they walked in companionable silence she was less aware of the man by her side than the one in her mind. Even in his absence, Sidney Parker seemed to invade her senses and she could not for her life understand how it was possible to have such mixed and confounding feelings towards any one man. Contempt and anger stronger than she ever had felt, combined with sadness and a sense of deep loss over having lost his approval and good opinion of her. Probably irrevocably.


	7. I did not know women could play cricket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sidney Parker wishes to spend more time with Miss Heywood but twice ends up more furious with her than ever before

Once again he was mad beyond belief and once again it was Charlotte Heywood who was the cause of it.

Officially, Sidney found himself in Sanditon so soon again for two reasons. One was to deliver Tom the unpleasant news that none of the London banks he had approached wanted to extend his brother’s credit any further. The second was that both Tom and Lord Babington had begged him to attend the yearly Sanditon cricket match next Saturday; Tom because he wanted prominent players on the gentlemen’s team, Babbers because Esther Denham unexpectedly had written a letter asking him to join the match and he did not want to go to Sanditon alone. Grumpily almost by habit Sidney had accepted, but he did not really mind going for reasons he shared with no one and did not even fully admit to himself. This secret reason made him actually look forward to the visit; he hoped to spend time with Charlotte Heywood, hoped for a possibility to get to know her better. 

During the week he had been back in London, attending to his own business and trying to do something about Tom’s, his sole source of joy had been reminiscing Miss Heywood. Their banter on the street after Mr. Stringer’s accident, their playful afternoon with the children by the river, the comfortable stillness during their late walk by the beach. Her expressive face appeared before him again and again, different versions depending what mood he pictured her in; focused, annoyed, pensive, happy, innocently flirting. God, visualising her biting her own plush bottom lip made him think things one should not think about a lady unless she was one’s wife. He did not have feelings for her, surely not, but she made him feel things and that had not happened for very long. 

When Sidney’s fiancé Eliza left him for a wealthier man many years ago, he had been heartbroken, bereaved almost to the brink to madness because he had been in love in the uninhibited way you only can be if you have not guarded your heart at all. Sidney had not, because he was too naïve to think there was any reason to do so, thus had allowed himself to fall head over heels for the beautiful Eliza even if he did not know that much of her character. It was a mistake which in terms of emotions cost him dearly, when it turned out that she was more pragmatic about what constituted a good marriage than he was. He had survived by putting physical distance between himself and the woman he loved and with time learned to efficiently turn off his feelings, at least any feelings that risked hurting him. He was very affectionate towards his nephews, nieces and Mary, loved his siblings dearly despite all their flaws and was fiercely loyal to his friends, but did not allow himself to be emotionally engaged beyond that. He prided himself in that he neither hated nor loved, that he after the fatal Eliza became something of an outlier with a hard resilient shell. He intended to never put himself in such a weak position again.

Now, he found that Miss Heywood was picking on that shell, threatening to break through. Even if he enjoyed her company, he feared she might be a ‘Pandora’s box’; if one lifted the lid a little, all sorts of dangerous things might seep out. Yet he felt compelled to lift that fictious lid by seeking her company again. He was unable to resist, and it scared him. 

Returned to London, Crowe and Babbers encouraged him to partake in the more extensive pleasures the city had to offer compared to Sanditon. He joined them for drinking and cards one evening but found he was not in the mood for anything beyond that. When Crowe suggested they would visit the so called “boarding house” where they had been frequent guests in the past, both Babington and Sidney turned him down. Babington because Esther Denham currently inhabited his mind, Sidney because he was exhausted running his brother’s errands, or at least so he claimed. Truth was, he was not in the mood for the company of courtesans. All he longed for were the innocent, amusing and challenging conversations with Miss Heywood, but he did not put words to that wish even in his own mind. He only knew he felt light at heart when he was on his way back to Sanditon.

Therefore the source of his fury was three-fold this afternoon when he once again found himself in a room at the Crowne hotel. He had intended to stay at Trafalgar house this time but changed his mind after the incident with his ward, Mr. Molyneux and the infuriating Miss Heywood. How provoking it was that his orders had not been obeyed, that people had gone behind his back and conspired so his ward could meet with that infernal scoundrel Molyneux. Sidney understood full well that Georgiana’s feelings were deep and true, but he doubted that Mr. Molyneux was in love with anything else than her fortune. Therefore, he had taken it upon himself as Georgiana’s guardian to protect her independence and money by keeping her from marrying Molyneux. If she did, both those things would be the possessions of Mr. Molyneux and there would be no turning back. He knew she hated him for it, but that was of little importance given the situation.

He was even more furious over Miss. Heywood’s accusations. First the preposterous one that he was against Molyneux because of the colour of his skin. He could not care less. In fact he had known many good black men during his years in the West Indies and counted them as friends and equals. His objections to Mr. Molyneux derived from that he did not trust a gambler and also that he thought that Georgiana deserved someone who had something to offer or the match would be very unequal. Secondly and worse, Miss Heywood had accused him of supporting slavery and profiting upon it. It was true that Sidney in his youth had been involved sugar trade, but when he travelled to Antigua and saw with his own eyes that it entailed the forced labour of slaves he had renounced it with immediate effect even though it had meant an economical loss. He despised slavery and firmly believed that no man or woman should be the property of another. It all came down to the idea that he thought of humans as equals no matter the colour of their skin or gender and therefore Miss Heywood’s accusations felt totally unfair.

He had been so taken aback and enraged by those accusations that he had not found the words to contradict her. All he had done was to raise his voice and told her he did not have to justify himself to her. Indeed he did not, but perhaps he wanted to anyway. When he cooled off he realised that yes, he did. He could not stand the thought of her believing those things of him, of her assuming he was so despicable. 

This lead back to the third reason of his anger; deep disappointment. Disappointment that Miss Heywood had not lived up to the trust he had placed in her, even if it was understandable given that she thought his only objection to Otis Molyneux was his skin colour, and even deeper disappointment as being on bad terms with her meant he could not see her. He should not want to see her after she had spoken to him like that unless she apologised, and he knew that was highly unlikely to happen. Tormented he realised he wanted to see her nevertheless. Right now, he was probably the last person she wanted to see anyway.

Only a few hours ago seated in Mary’s parlour, things had looked so promising. When he arrived in Sanditon, he had called on Trafalgar house and Mary told him Tom was out somewhere and Miss Heywood was visiting Miss Lambe. His heart had jolted at this immediate opportunity and completely valid reason to see Miss Heywood, perhaps he could even walk her back from Miss Lambe and get her alone for some time. Sidney’s thoughts had spun away with him and a little smile played on his lips. 

How disappointed and even betrayed he had felt when he realised Miss Heywood had helped Georgiana lying to get away from Mrs Griffiths, even more so when he found them in the company of Molyneux, and what really hurt was that he apparently was a joke to her. That imitation of him as some fancy, cruel dandy locking Georgiana away without justification was so unfair and spiteful that just thinking about it, made him clench his fists. She had him wrong. She had him completely wrong. Even in his furious state he knew he had to show her that and as he cooled down it seemed increasingly important. He did not understand why it mattered, it just did. He needed some distance to the whole thing first and decided it was better to return to London for a few days, before it was time for the cricket match.  
  
-o-  
  
Came Friday and he was back in Sanditon now accompanied by his friends. The idea that he needed to see Miss Heywood and explain to her had grown on him and he was more convinced than ever that it was the necessary thing to do. She had been in his thoughts countless times during the days away. Reluctantly Sidney had concluded that even if it angered him that she had done the exact contrary to what he asked of her, he appreciated that she did what she was convinced was right. He admitted to himself that even if it drove him mad when she accused him of being a prejudiced opportunist using slavery, he admired how passionately and unflinchingly she challenged him. If he had been guilty of those things he would indeed have deserved that, he only had to make her see he was free of charge – he was against those things as much as she was.  
It was enigma, but the very same things about her that angered him, made him want to be with her even more. He would not mind provoking fire in her eyes again, but for totally different reasons.

He had played the conversation with her many times in his head, always with the excellent outcome that she finally saw him for who he was, and they reconciled. Yet he found himself totally unprepared for it when he ran into her, as he stopped by Tom for another depressing financial chat. He knew his brother did not fully confide in him and he feared that his economic situation was grave, but he had truly done everything in his power to help him. The banks were simply not interested in investing more in Tom’s building project at risk. 

Running into Miss Heywood in Trafalgar house should perhaps not come as a surprise by now, yet he was caught off guard and even when they had a moment to themselves none of the eloquent explanations he had thought of came over his lips. He tried to avoid looking at her, suddenly afraid what she might see in his eyes, but his gaze was immediately drawn back to her quite lovely appearance. The loose dark curls, the thin white muslin dress flowing around her delicate figure making him think of a flower, her pretty face which became flushed and troubled as soon as she saw him. He sighed to fill the strained silence.

“I assume you’re here for the cricket, Mr. Parker.” 

He was there mainly because he needed to see her, explain to her. Tom’s and Babington’s needs for him to participate in the cricket came second.

“Never short of assumptions, Miss Heywood.” He heard how harsh it came out and tried to compensate with a smile but felt it did not sit right on his face and she responded with a snort. He was too anxious about what she must think of him, too nervous and eager to explain to actually be capable of doing it.

“Well, I was not expecting to see you back so soon.” She uncomfortably shifted weight between her feet, her whole body language demonstrating she wished to be somewhere else and he averted his eyes again.

“Believe me, neither was I.”

He had battled with himself, come to the conclusion it was best not to come here, then changed his mind again and here he was.

He was not sure if he was relieved or annoyed when Mary interrupted them. Mostly relieved probably, because he knew he would not manage a coherent explanation in this moment. The effect she had on him was too distracting. He had to see her again when he was better prepared, more balanced. Perhaps after the cricket match tomorrow. Yes, it had to be then, because after that he did not plan return to Sanditon for some time. Unless something changed dramatically.

-o-

Things did not look bright to begin with. When he first saw Miss Heywood on the beach before the cricket began she was standing in the refreshments tent and when she spotted him approaching, she practically ran away. She really could not make it any clearer that she did not wish to be in his presence. If she kept running, how would he then be able to explain to her?

Then it got even worse. Gritting his teeth, Sidney could only observe with, he hoped, a blank expression, when Miss Heywood friendly chatted with James Stringer. They looked so at ease together, all smiles. He heard her wish him luck and joke that he already seemed to have gathered several admirers. Sidney found he wished intensively that she only eluded to the Beaufort sisters who were eyeing Stringer quite shamelessly and not to herself but given the smiles she flashed at Stringer he could not be sure. Why had he not spoken to her yesterday when he had the chance? He cursed his own hesitance. 

When Stringer left to join his team she turned and became aware of Sidney standing close and with his dark eyes fixed on her. It seemed like she felt compelled to say something to him, out of common courtesy. 

“Good luck to you too Mr. Parker, although I imagine you don’t think you’ll need it.”  
She said it in a defiant tone and with more of a grimace than a smile, letting him know that they were not on friendly terms in any way. How far this was from how he wanted things to be, but this was not the time and place for a long explanation to change that, as the match was about to begin, and they were surrounded by people. 

“Yet more assumptions”, was all he managed to say, and something felt heavy inside his chest.

Things got worse than so, before there finally was some light to this dreadful day. He tried to focus on the match, but in addition to the situation with Miss Heywood there was a disturbing tension in the air between Tom and the worker’s team. During a heated verbal exchange between Tom and some of the other players, it dawned on Sidney just how serious Tom’s financial situation was. Unfortunately he was not the only one who heard when Stringer said that the workers were right to be snide when they had not been paid for weeks. It was shocking news to Sidney and embarrassing for Tom to be so publicly exposed. It was not surprising that he did not want to stay and play after that, even if he in fact embarrassed himself further walking out on the match, leaving the gentlemen’s team one player short. 

Sidney watched his brother’s back as he practically fled with long strides, instead of facing his problems. Sidney wished he could bury himself in the sand or dive into the sea, because he did not know what to do; not how to help Tom out of his serious predicament, not how to resolve the enmity with Miss Heywood, not how to find a replacement player for his team when the previous team captain had escaped. 

He normally liked James Stringer, but not today. Not when Miss Heywood seemed to hold him in such high esteem, not when he spoke the uncomfortable truth about his brother and certainly not now when he stated the obvious.

“You haven't got another player to replace him. We win.”

Sidney wanted to continue the match, to save the day somehow, he really did. Not to let his brother spoil this event which was an amusement for the whole town and draw further shame upon himself. He wished he could at least prevent that from happening but saw no way out. The defeated words ‘Yes, you win’ were on his lips when there was a surprising turn. 

“I'll play.”

Miss Heywood had left her seat by the other ladies and purposefully came towards the men.

“Ah, but isn't this a gentleman's pursuit?” The designated umpire Mr. Hankins said insecurely at this unexpected offer.

“Women play cricket in Willingden, Reverend”, she stated confidently, and Sidney felt like laughing with relief. She was willing to play, he could think of no other woman he ever had met who would have the idea to join a cricket match but of course Miss Heywood would. No one objected, in fact it seemed like they all appreciated being accompanied by her.

When it was her time to strike, he attempted coaching her. She had said women played in Willingden but even so he doubted she had much experience of cricket and wanted her to succeed, as much for her sake as for the team’s.

“Keep your eye on the ball, all right?”

“Thank you. I know what I'm doing.” She rocked back and forth, grasping the bat, tensely awaiting the ball to come flying.

“If you can't make the run, just stay put.”

“Yes, thank you.” An annoyed wrinkle appeared between her brows and she sounded impatient. “I know exactly what I'm doing. Now please. I'm concentrating, and you're putting me off.”

He gave in. If she was adamant she could do without advice, who was he to give it?  
“All right.” He backed away with a smile. 

“Let’s play!”

And so they did. With Tom gone and with him the hostility boiling under the surface, the match was entertaining for real. With Miss Heywood in his place it was a pure delight to play, and for some more than others. Sidney did not know when he last enjoyed himself this much. He had the notion young Stringer shared that sentiment but would not let that spoil it for him. Of course she proved him wrong from her first strike, she was an excellent player.

She had taken off her blue jacket and bonnet to be able to move freely. Her cheeks were flushed from the exercise and she was laughing happily and intoxicating, like she was embracing everything about this moment. Her hair was damp from droplets of sea water travelling with the wind and curlier than usual, looking adorably unruly. Same sea breeze made her thin white dress move, so it shifted between being filled with air almost like a sail and being glued to her body so he could see every curve of her silhouette. His breath hitched at the sight of forms normally hidden by the loose dresses that were in fashion. He knew he should look away, but he could not make himself. The curves of her slender waist, softly rounded hips and well-shaped legs were too tempting. 

When he first saw her on the road together with Mary but a month ago, he had thought her insignificant and bland. It was long since he had changed his mind about this vivacious, brave and headstrong girl, but today was the first time a wave of want flashed up inside him. Not only because her female curves seemed like perfection to him, but for being infinitely more alive than any lady he had ever known. 

It was like the match brought them closer again, like she could not be mad at him and he not at her when they were on the same team, the two of them. No one else really mattered as they ran between the wickets grinning at each other, not to him at least. How he loved that she stroked better than many of the men, ran to win until she gasped for air without any thought of what was respectable for a lady, but mostly he loved how their eyes met repeatedly and how hers were twinkling then.

When Stringer bowled, she hit the ball one last time and made a run that rendered their team the victory, he felt ridiculously proud of her even if it was not his doing at all. Everyone cheered and applauded, and he would have liked to give her a big hug, envelop her in his arms and say she was amazing, but that was unthinkable. She met his eyes again, still looking friendly instead of challenging even if her words were slightly so.

“Was that a smile I detected?”

He had not even been aware of it but realised now he was smiling wide. His heart was no longer heavy, it was light much like the fabric of her dress flowing in the wind.  
“Oh, I doubt it.”

She smiled in return and turned to thank the other team for a good match. Sidney tried to collect himself, somehow overwhelmed with joyous feelings. 

“Well done, Miss Heywood”, he told her when she turned to him again.

“Thank you.” Her smile reached all the way to her hazel eyes and he knew that at least momentarily he was forgiven even if he still had explaining to do. Her hand went to her unruly hair, to push it away from her face and he had to hold back not to do it for her. During a few seconds their eyes were locked and the air between them somehow seemed to fizzle and bind them together rather separate them. He existed only there and then and was happy through and through for the first time in forever.

“Mr Parker!” 

He always found Mrs. Griffiths slightly annoying but in this instant more than ever. Maybe she would go away if he ignored her.

“It's Miss Lambe. I've lost her. I can't find her anywhere.”

Her words made him abruptly snap back to reality.

“What?!”

In despair she told him Miss Lambe had gone missing during the match and was nowhere to be found. When he turned to ask if Miss Heywood knew where she might be, she was gone too, and he saw her back disappearing between the dunes in direction of the town. The speed of her implied both that she was worried about Georgiana and that she might know something, and he immediately set off after her, cursing under his breath as he ran. 

Was it impossible for him to be allowed to feel happiness for longer than a few minutes? Damn Miss Lambe, damn Miss Griffiths and damn Miss Heywood too if she had anything to do with Georgiana disappearing. 

He ran to Mrs. Griffiths’ house with the vain hope of finding Georgiana and Miss Heywood there, but neither of them was to be seen. He paced the parlour back and forth deliberating where to go next when Miss Heywood barged into the room, breathless and flushed, looking very anxious. She looked like she wanted to tell him something, but they were interrupted by Mrs. Griffiths and James Stringer.

“Mr Parker, there is some news of Miss Lambe.” Mrs. Griffiths sounded like she was about try cry.

“One of the men saw her waiting, outside the hotel”, Stringer said, calmer but also seeming bothered.

“What do you mean, waiting? When? What, what time?” Sidney demanded.

“About four o'clock. The next thing was, a carriage drove up. A man got out.”

“A man? She was meeting a man?” His pulse spiked again.

“ Was this man black?” It was Miss Heywood asking and alarmed he turned to her and for the first time realised she had a guilty look on her face.

“Why would you ask that?” he inquired but she ignored him.

“Was he?”

“All he said was, there were two of them. The other was in the carriage. She was bundled in and, and they took off.”

“Bundled?!”  
His eyes did not leave Miss Heywood’s face and now she looked very confused and distressed. He realised that he had to get to the bottom of what she knew.

“Thank you, Mr Stringer. I'm grateful.” 

He asked Mrs. Griffiths to accompany Stringer out so he would get rid of them both. He feared the worst and needed to talk to Miss Heywood alone.

“You know something, don't you?” he enquired as soon as they were gone.

“I have been acting as go-between for Georgiana and Otis Molyneux since you forbade them from seeing each other”, she confessed, nervously fiddling with the bonnet she was holding and went on explaining. “Her heart was broken, Mr Parker, I could not bear to see it. They arranged to meet today. During the cricket match.”

“You did what?” 

He hoped he had heard her wrong but felt like he was about to explode. Could the girls had been so foolish? Could Miss Heywood had done something so irresponsible as being an accomplice in setting this up? He could hardly believe it.

“I was to accompany her. I never would have let them meet alone.”

At least that meant she had some sense…

“I was caught up in the excitement of the match and I forgot.”

..or maybe not. For fucks sake!

“You… you forgot?” His blood boiled and he could no longer contain the anger and desperation he felt. “You forgot!” he shouted out loud and saw her flinch but thought she deserved it.

“ Yes! Yes. And I'm sorry.”

He was sure she was but that hardly helped. 

“She must have sneaked off. She was desperate to see him. She would not be stopped.”

He stepped closer to her and had to hold back not to grab her and shake her.

“If anything happens to her, anything, it will be on your head. Do you understand me?”

He stared hard into her scared tearful eyes, then spun around and left before he did anything he regretted. He was more furious with her than ever before. Furious because she had taken part in causing a situation which potentially was both compromising and dangerous for his ward and even more outraged because by doing so, she forced him to be mad at her again when it was the last thing he wanted. The fragile friendship between them was shattered yet again at her doing. Instead of having the conversation with her that he had longed to have, he was now forced to set off to London to look for the missing Miss Lambe with the vain hope of finding her before irrevocable damage was done to her reputation. If anything grave happened to Georgiana he was not sure how he would ever be able to forgive Miss Heywood and that prospect made him wistful more than furious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely sure how easy this chapter is to follow when reading, please let me know if you if you found it difficult and I might edit. Overall grateful for any feedback. Thank you for reading and commenting!  
/Miss P


	8. London by night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sidney stumbles upon someone he did not expect to see in London and finds a carriage ride surprisingly pleasant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far, every second chapter has been Sidney’s perspective, every second Charlotte’s. From now I will mix a bit but this one focuses mostly on Sidney, because I love to imagine what he was thinking and feeling.

He was back in London with the purpose to track down Otis Molyneux and hopefully a still virtuous and unmarried Georgiana Lambe along with him. It had not been too difficult finding Molyneux’s address, unsurprisingly in a rough part of the city. Sidney was on his way there through narrow, dark alleys when he came across a woman in distress. He heard some muffled sounds and noticed a man cornering a woman with the clear intention to take advantage of her. He was covering her mouth and held her arms locked behind her back, and even if she put up a fight to get free, the man was stronger, and her struggle was in vain. The man curse when the woman apparently bit his hand and suddenly the bleak street lights reflected on a long knife blade. 

Another man might have walked by, thinking it was none of his business, but Sidney had never been one to accept other men forcing themselves on women and it had provoked his involvement in several fist fights in the past. This occasion was no different and he brusquely grabbed the man, punched him hard in the face and threw him towards a brick wall, causing him to drop the knife and wail with pain. When the woman whimpered beside Sidney, he turned her direction and to his utter surprise found her to be none other than Miss Heywood. She looked equally shocked and not especially grateful when she saw his face.

“Mr Parker?” 

“Miss Heywood?”

He reached out a hand to help her up, but she ignored it and got up without his assistance, dismissing his protective instincts. 

What on earth was she doing here? 

His heart thumped erratically and not only from the adrenaline rush provoked by the fight.

“As if this situation were not insufferable enough, I now have the added burden of protecting you”, he scoffed yet gentlemanly reached for the bag she held on to, and she handed it to him with some reluctance. Even in a situation like this she stubbornly maintained her independence.

“I have no need of your protection. I have the situation in hand”, she claimed defensively and barely seemed to register that he blocked a drunkard from bouncing into her. 

That was the most preposterous thing he had ever heard. She would likely not have made it through this night unharmed if he had not come across her.

“What do you suppose would have happened had I not arrived at that moment?” 

She shrugged her shoulders and then it hit him that she was too innocent to understand that the man’s intentions had been to rob her of something far worse than her purse. He clenched his fists and felt a hard knot in is stomach at the mere thought, now wishing he had hit the man harder. 

“What possessed Mary to let you come in the first place, I have no idea.”

It was actually unthinkable that his sensible sister-in-law would have allowed Miss Heywood to travel to London alone. Such a thing was unheard of for a young lady, far too dangerous and potentially harmful for her reputation.

“She doesn't know I am here. In fact, she expressly forbade it”, she explained without a trace of regret in her voice.

“But you stole away on the London coach regardless?” 

He was flabbergasted yet unsurprised. Apparently, Miss Heywood had a habit of doing the exact opposite of what she was told to do. Such recklessness was exactly what one could expect from her. Or such bravery, depending on how one chose to see it. He was not sure why that thought hit him, surely her behaviour was unacceptable no matter from which angle it was viewed.

“I left a note, explaining that I'd come here to help.”

“Help? How exactly do you think your presence here would help?” he asked, incredulous.

“For one thing, I did not think that you had Mr Molyneux's address.”

“It's hardly taken me long to find it, as you can see.” Now his voice was dripping with sarcasm.

“It is of no use anyway, he has not been seen in over a week. Apparently, he has all but vanished.”

“Yes, of course he has; with Georgiana. What more proof do you need? Mercifully, Tom is in our London house. He'll see that you're kept out of harm's way.”

She stopped in her tracks and turned to him, her pretty little face looking very troubled.

“No!” she protested vehemently. “I am in large part to blame for what has happened. You must allow me the chance to help put it right. Please.”

The last she added with pleading eyes and voice. He suddenly needed to look away, overwhelmed with emotions. In this very moment the coin dropped for Sidney and he realised she was here because of him, because he had told her that if anything happened to Georgiana it would be on her head. Because of him and for Georgiana’s sake, she had defied Mary and selflessly endangered herself by travelling alone to an unknown and dangerous city to try to put things right. This realisation made him feel like a remorseful brute and endlessly grateful he had stumbled upon her before anything happened to her. He would never have forgiven himself. Still, he wished he did not have to deal with this unwelcome companion when he was on a mission. 

He returned his gaze to meet hers.

“You've done enough.” 

He did not tell her in more words than so, that his discontent with her was fading, but the sudden softness in his voice and the shift in his eyes gave him away even in the dim light. Without fully understanding why, this made her obey instead of objecting further when he nodded his head in direction of the awaiting carriage as a sign for her to get in.

Sidney gave the driver the address to the Parker’s London residence and slumped down in the seat, too late realising he had sat down beside Miss Heywood instead of on the opposite side as may have been the wiser choice. When the carriage started with a jerk she was tossed towards him, her side temporarily pressed to his. Briefly he felt the pleasant pressure from her body, then the two quickly moved apart to sit as far away from each other as they could.

He wished they would travel in silence, but she had different ideas. As usual there were things she needed to get off her chest.

“If you'd been honest with me, if you'd only told me that you feared for her safety, I would have thought twice.” 

He nearly gasped at the unfairness of this accusation. If there was one thing he was certain of, it was that he had made his view on the matter very clear indeed.

“I could not have been any clearer about my feelings for Mr Molyneux.”

“You spoke only in the vaguest of terms. You gave no reason for your antipathy. No explanation.”

He felt his annoyance return, the upset feelings from their argument in the street in Sanditon. Damnit, he had no obligation to disclose his reasons to her.

“Oh, so you supplied your own. You baselessly accused me of prejudice.”

He kept staring out of the window, struggling not to let his temper get the better of him like it had when he had shouted at her in the street. He had a hot temper, he knew that, but no one made him lose it quite as often as Miss Heywood despite that he increasingly disliked losing it with her.

“Hardly baseless, given how you made your fortune”, she said with evident contempt.  
He snapped around, now compelled to look straight at her. That accusation again. At least now he was more mentally prepared for it and managed to blurt out an upset explanation.

“For God's sake, I despise slavery! I've long since renounced the sugar trade for that very reason.” It gave him some satisfaction to notice a confused expression pass over her face. She thought he had him all figured out and he longed to prove her assumptions wrong. 

“The man's race played no part in it.”

“I can think of no other reason for your enmity.”

Sidney felt like an artery might burst inside him very soon. How come she must constantly assume the worst of him instead of looking for other possible explanations?

“Are you really that naive? Why do you think he was so desperate to marry her? Because the moment they are wed, everything she owns belongs to him.”

He saw her process the information as his words sank in and it silenced her - for about three beats, then she shifted topic.

“Are we not wasting time? Instead of taking me back to Tom, we could be searching for Georgiana.”

Would she ever accept being a by-stander? Highly unlikely, but he was firmly determined to drop her off at Tom’s.

“And where do you suggest we look, Miss Heywood? This is a city of a million people.”

“The Sons Of Africa.”

“What?” Sidney had never heard of it.

“It is the movement he belongs to.”

This was actually a brilliant idea and instead of taking Miss Heywood home to Tom, Sidney gave the driver new instructions and they continued the search for Otis Molyneux in the London night together. 

He brought Miss Heywood to places he knew he should not, but time was of the essence now when they had an important clue, so he could not waste it by going to the Parker residence. They located Molyneux as he by a stroke of luck was giving a speech at the premises of ‘The Sons Of Africa’ this very evening. Molyneux in his turn pointed them to a Mr. Beacroft, the infamous owner of several establishments of disputable reputation, among them a gambling house which Molyneux was indebted to. The situation turned out to be very grave indeed, exceeding Sidney’s worst fears. Georgiana was not with Molyneux but had been abducted by Beacroft’s thugs and basically been sold to a man who intended to force her to the altar to get his hands on her fortune. When they learned this information Sidney had felt for a moment like everything was lost, but Miss Heywood was not willing to throw in the gauntlet yet and had suggested that Beacroft maybe was hiding Georgiana somewhere in London. He had implied he was awaiting payment for her and he was a man who was unlikely to let anything go without some kind of security. That had led Sidney to think of a ‘boarding house’ which he knew Beacroft also owned, so he had ordered the carriage to bring them there in a last attempt to locate Georgiana.

They had another painfully awkward conversation on the way and Sidney wondered if this night would ever come to an end and how he was to survive it. They had left Molyneux behind and Miss Haywood had found it in her right to scold at him because she thought he had been too hard on the man.

“As I see it, he is a good man who made one terrible mistake”, she said, looking sternly at Sidney from the opposite seat as he now had had the presence to at least avoid sitting beside her.

“He is an inveterate gambler. He has several debtors beside Beecroft”, he tried to explain patiently.

“Otis never meant to place Georgiana in harm's way, any more than I did.”

“And yet you both did.” She flinch and knew he was being hard on her, but he felt she needed to hear the truth.

“All I ever cared about was Georgiana's happiness”, she defended herself.

“What do you think I care about?” Again he felt he was on the verge to losing his temper, but more out of desperation than anger this time. 

“That is anyone's guess!” she spoke back with equal indignation. 

“I have done the best I can by Georgiana.” 

Why did she make him feel like he did not measure up? What was it about her that so often made him feel he was not doing enough? He intended for that to be the end of the conversation, but she could not let him have the last word.

“No. At every turn you've abdicated responsibility. If you truly cared for her welfare, you would have watched over her yourself.”

Her words hit a soft spot inside him and now he felt a strong need to defend himself.  
“It's a role I neither sought nor asked for.”

“Of course not! Because you are determined to remain an outlier. God forbid you give something of yourself.”

She was right. He did not want to give of himself because once he had given all and been burned. He had fought hard to bury and forget the reason for his behaviour deep inside over the years, but his visible actions strived to achieve one thing; to protect himself from the pain that came with emotional involvement. He had no intention of sharing this with her.

“Please, do not presume to know my mind, Miss Heywood.”

“How can anyone know your mind? You take pains to be unknowable. All I know is that you cannot bear the idea of two people being in love.”

For some reason her words made Sidney feel like he hardly could breathe.

“And what do you know of love, apart from what you have read?” he asked with choked voice and could barely stand looking at her. It must be pleasant to be so naïve and unruined as Miss Heywood, to not know the pain of betrayal and unrequited love. How he envied that.

“I would sooner be naive than insensible of feeling.” 

At these words another feeling came over him, like a mighty wave. He did not understand why he so strongly disliked her thinking him insensible of feeling, when that was exactly what he long had strived to be.

“Is that really what you think of me? I am sorry that you think that. How much easier my life would have been if I were.”

Briefly their eyes locked and he saw that his words confounded her. Perhaps she also noticed the sudden tired sadness in his voice because she said nothing more and soon they stopped outside the boarding house. Miss Heywood made a move towards the carriage door, but Sidney held her back. This was an establishment where he refused to bring her inside. He had to draw the line somewhere and such a place was an inacceptable environment for a young lady. 

“Under no circumstances are you to set foot outside this carriage.”

She looked like she had tasted something sour, but stayed behind without putting up a fight when he went inside. 

As soon as he entered the lavishly decorated room, the Madame approached him. She had not seen Sidney Parker for quite some time and was pleased he was here now. He had always been a very popular, even if not very frequent, customer among the girls. Not only was he handsome, but he also belonged to the few men who cared that the woman took some pleasure in the act and the rumour was that an evening with Sidney Parker was very pleasant indeed. So pleasant that most girls would spent it for free, had the Madame allowed it.

“Good evening, Mr Parker. I've not seen you in a while. I have some new ladies who'll be delighted to make your acquaintance.”

“Thank you, Mrs Harries, but I am not here for that.” 

Indeed the tone of his voice suggested he was here for business rather than pleasure. Madame barely had time to feel disappointed, before that feeling was replaced with surprise when a tiny brunette appeared by Mr. Parker’s side. Her astonished gaze wandered around the exclusive room, filled with beautiful girls and their guests.

“Mr Parker, what is this place?” she creased her little nose suggesting that she understood full well what kind of place this was.

Madame noticed that Mr. Parker looked far from pleased to see her here. 

“I thought I told you to wait”, he hissed through gritted teeth.

“I decided against it.” 

Ha, such a feisty girl. Was it his wife? No they did not seem like such an established couple. His fiancé perhaps, or otherwise soon to be because Madame noticed almost visible sparks flying between them. Madame had seen enough different sorts of people in her days to know when there was a special connection between two, and there definitely was between Parker and this girl. 

“And who is this? You haven't made an honest man of our Mr Parker, have you?” 

“Gracious, no.” 

The brunette shook her head as if the suggestion was ridiculous. So she was still in denial. Judging by the furious look on Mr. Parker’s face, he was too. Well, give them time and Madame was certain they would understand their own feelings because she was never wrong.

“I am a friend of Miss Georgiana Lambe's. Is she here?” the girl continued.

“I don't believe I am acquainted with anyone of that name”, Madame lied fluently and tried to turn away, but Mr. Parker took her by the arm. 

“Wait, wait, wait. You know something. Miss Lambe is my ward, you must tell me what you know.”

Ah, this was awkward. She really liked Parker and wanted to help him, so after a brief hesitation she told him the truth.

“You missed them by half an hour. If you're quick you might catch them on the road to Scotland.”

Sidney almost pushed Miss Heywood in front of him, trying to get her away from there as quickly as possible now when they had the information they needed, but as soon as they came outside she turned to him.

“A ‘boarding house’, you said. Is this your idea of love? Something to be paid for?” 

Her large innocent yet sharp eyes seemed to drill deep inside him, and he tried to hide the fact that he was deeply embarrassed by lashing out at her. 

“That will do! If we are to stand any chance of catching them up, we should make haste.”

She rolled her eyes at him and stepped towards the carriage. 

“I don't suppose there's any point in telling you to stay behind, is there?”

She entered and her unusual, cool silence was as clear as if she had told him verbally to sod off.

Seated inside, Charlotte stared at Mr Parker with a disgusted and confounded look on her face reflecting her exact sentiments.

Every time he showed something of himself which improved her opinion of him, something happened which made her think the contrary. This evening he has come to her rescue, even if she had not needed it, not at all. He had also disclosed motives for his recent actions which had surprised her. Her thoughts went on to what Mr Parker had said about Otis Molyneux and his objections to him. He had wanted to safeguard Georgiana’s independence and fortune and he denied that objecting to Otis had anything to do with race. He also claimed to be against slavery. She glanced at him, as if trying to penetrate his hard outer shell but he seemed preoccupied with his own thoughts. Did she believe him? Yes, she found that she did, and these revelations were all in his favour, but then again, another was not.

It had been clear that the hostess in that so called ‘boarding house’ knew him well. Charlotte found it despicable and utterly disappointing that he had been a guest there in the past. Of course, she knew that many men paid for female company but somehow she had expected more from Mr. Parker. She was not sure why, but surely he did not need to pay women to be with him? He was often moody enough to deter any woman from voluntarily spend time with him, that was true, but he had also shown her another side of himself; charming, attentive, supportive and caring. If he chose to show more of that, women would gladly throw themselves at his feet because his brooding looks were indisputably attractive. She shook her head to herself. Did she really just think that? 

So, why would he then do it? She pondered over this for a while as the carriage moved through the streets towards the outskirts of the city and concluded that perhaps it was because he did not want any feelings to be involved, no strings attached. Not for his part, not for anyone else’s. He wanted to remain distant, unengaged and what better way than to pay for company. Still, it disturbed her to imagine him with those women and a strange, nagging feeling emerged inside her, one which Charlotte was too unfamiliar with to identify as jealousy. She did not admit to herself that she would welcome Sidney Parker’s company in any shape or form, so how could she then be jealous of someone else having it. It did not even occur to her because it was such a ridiculous notion.

At the other end of the seat, Sidney’s thoughts much mirrored Charlotte’s.

He prepared himself for a long ride. Even if they had been told that they only had missed Miss Lambe by half an hour, it would take time to catch up on the bumpy country road towards Gretna Green and the company of Miss Heywood would likely make the journey feel twice as long.  
She kept quiet now though and did not look at him. He felt his cheeks still burn after her comment outside the boarding house and was grateful for the dim light. He had the feeling she would not find him redeemed even if he told her it had been months since he was there last because he strangely had not fancied to go. Had not fancied the company of any woman… except on occasions hers. Not tonight though.

Eager as he was both to get Miss Heywood as far away from the boarding house as he could and to chase after Georgiana, he had made the same mistake again; sat down on the same seat as her and then it somehow seemed rude to move, so he did not but kept his distance.

He knew it probably was better if he did not try to explain to her, but after a while driving in strained silence he could not resist.

“It is not my idea of love.”

“What?” she turned to him looking confused. 

“You asked before… outside the boarding house. Paying for it is not my idea of love. Not like that and not in a marriage.” 

He looked out the window and the small muscle by his jaw tensed. 

“I suppose that is why I am not married, because I have not found the right woman and I refuse to see marriage as a transaction of money. Then I would rather not marry at all.” 

He swallowed hard before he continued. 

“Perhaps we are not so different after all Miss Heywood. Was it not you who said marriage would become a kind of slavery without love and affection? That you would not marry without it?”

Their brown eyes, his near black and her hazel ones, met and she just nodded in response, stunned over his confession. For once Miss Heywood did not seem to find any witty words in return.  
They drove on in silence, but now it felt more companionable than before. He noticed how tired she looked and no wonder in the middle of the night, after a long journey from Sanditon to London and a far too adventurous evening. 

“Try to get some rest. It may take long before we catch up with them.”

“I’m not sure I can sleep when I am so worried for Georgiana.”

“I am sure it will all turn out for the best now when we know where she is headed”, he said with more confidence than he felt, but it seemed to comfort her and within a few minutes she was asleep.

He was filled with a strange tenderness when he watched her sleeping form, saw her eyelashes flutter and heard her calm breaths. She soon became relaxed and limp and he noticed how her body shifted back and forth uncomfortably as the carriage moved and jerked. With a loud sigh only for himself, as if to make it clear he was making a sacrifice, he moved closer on the seat and pulled her to him, so she rested against his shoulder. When he put his arm around her to support her, she slid further down so she was half lying on his chest. In her sleep she nestled into him and put her arm over his stomach. Sidney momentarily froze at this much unexpected body contact, but he did not have it in his heart to push her away and could not help but secretly enjoying it. Instead he held her steadily, indulged in her form fitting so well to his and the warmth coming from her. He registered her every breath and faint sound, the same jasmine perfume he had smelled at the ball and allowed himself to gently stroke her soft hair. 

So it happened, that for many hours Sidney Parker held a sleeping Miss Heywood in his arms. He had never slept beside a woman a full night and he wondered if this was what it would feel like having one in his arms every night, knowing she was his, waiting to wake up to meet another day together. He told himself he stayed awake for when they would catch up with Georgiana’s abductors, but the truth was he did not want to miss a second of the loveliness. This was something he never had expected to experience, least of all with Miss Heywood.


	9. Change of hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Charlotte and Sidney are struggling with conflicting emotions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I curse myself because I always take a story so seriously once I have started it. I want it to contain a complete plot, not skip over parts too lightly but it also makes it a bigger project requiring quite some effort. Really should try to keep to one-shots but it is impossible. Right now I’m a bit torn between wanting to give more substance to the amazing story we have already seen and moving on to what happens beyond episode 8. Well, we will get to it at some point if you have not given up by then. Perhaps you are bored by this reliving of the series, but I really enjoy getting inside their heads.  
Another chapter shifting POV between the two, I hope you can follow and that you enjoy the read. Next is almost ready because it was part of this at first but got too long for my taste.

Charlotte was rattled awake by the lurching carriage. Dazed and confused she looked up and for a moment was even more bewildered at the sight of Sidney Parker on the opposite seat, watching her intently.

“Where are we?” she asked sleepily.

“On the road to Scotland, tracking down Georgiana, remember?” 

Then it all came back to her, last night and why they were here. His melodious voice was surprisingly soft and somehow made her feel like she was exactly where she wanted to be.

Mr. Parker looked a bit haggard, but just like the previous time she had seen him like that, it suited him. He was the kind of man that looked slightly dangerous in a handsome, thrilling way when he was not all polished up and perfect. Fleetingly she wondered what that stubbled jaw would feel like if her fingertips touched it, and if his tousled dark hair would feel soft or rough if she smoothed it over. Not that she ever would dare or even really wanted to. His looks made her self-consciously aware that she must look very disorderly, with crumpled dress, messy hair and a sleepy face and she was quite certain it was not to her advantage as it was to his. She sat up and tried to smooth out wrinkles on her clothes, tidy her curls a bit and put on the bonnet that had fallen off during the night. 

He did not cease watching her and now she noticed there was something different about him. The rest of his appearance might be stern as usual, but the expression in his eyes had shifted since last night. He did not look at her as if she was flawed, like she did not know enough of the world, was too outspoken and did not dress the part of a lady. The unexpected warmth in his eyes made her feel like she was wrapped up in blanket; safe, protected and also a bit hot. She looked away, out the window and only now she registered it was daylight, which meant she must have slept for long.

“I never expected to sleep so well during a bumpy carriage ride, but I feel as if I have rested in the most comfortable bed, tucked in under a duvet and with my head on a fluffy pillow”, she said astonished and returned her gaze to his face. 

For some reason this made his cheeks flush slightly, but there was also a little smile playing on his lips. It struck her how soft and full those lips were. They could have been feminine if the rest of his features had not been so supremely masculine. Now they were just an enticing contrast to his chiselled jaw and stubble.

“I suppose the movements of the carriage rocked you to sleep.”

“Did you sleep at all?”

“For a while yes, but mostly I have been awake.”

“It must have been a dreadfully long and boring night for you. I hope at least I did not snore”, she giggled insecurely. The thought of him watching her as she slept was disconcerting. Now he smiled fully.

“I can assure you, you did not. You slept very peacefully.”

The way he said it gave her goosebumps. Their eyes stayed locked for a few, long seconds. She chewed her bottom lip and heard her own heart beats resound in her ears so loud that he surely must hear them too. He steadily kept holding her gaze and something flashed inside her. He was so calm and comforting and when he looked at her like that she had the strangest sensation inside. He had been so brusque at times last night, not for the first time and probably not for the last, but right now his eyes were tender like they had been that afternoon by the river and when they walked together along the beach. He opened his mouth as if to say something more but remained silent. Charlotte felt like something important was going on here, but even if she was part of it she was unsure of what it was. 

The intense moment was interrupted by the driver shouting to them from above, alerting them to that he now saw another carriage on the road ahead of them. Mr. Parker immediately tensed, preparing himself for the upcoming confrontation.

-o-

Hours later, three exhausted travellers arrived at the door of Tom Parker’s house at Bedford Place. Tom was first happily surprised to see them, then dismayed when he saw the state of the ladies. 

“Let’s get the ladies upstairs, then I’ll explain”, Sidney told him.

His eyes followed Miss Heywood when she disappeared upstairs and suddenly he wished she would not go, felt like he wanted her within reach so he could be sure she was safe from harm. This night and morning had been far more adventurous than was suitable for a young woman. He shook it off and told himself he was being ridiculous. She had handled it surprisingly well and of course she was safe here, as now at last was Georgiana.

At some point during the night Sidney had fallen asleep despite his intention not to, too content with Miss Heywood in his arms not to let his body relax and be lulled to sleep. When he woke up, daylight had already come and when he became aware of Miss Heywood still sleeping, with her head at the crook of his neck, he felt guilty, like he had indulged in a forbidden pleasure. She was not his to hold. Yet, he held her a minute longer, unable to let go of her warm body, pliant in sleep. She was so lovely. With long, dark eyelashes resting on rosy cheeks and her soft lips slightly parted, she looked innocently beautiful. She had proven to be so many other things; annoying, opinionated and headstrong but also intelligent, genuine and at each point following her own heart. She was impulsive and reckless, but also adventurous and brave, putting her friend’s safety before her own. The very same things that one could criticized because she did not follow the norms for how a young lady should behave, also made him reluctantly admire her the more he got to know her, but he had not understood until now exactly how lovely she was. Not despite all those things but because of them, for no one else was like her. No one stood up to him, challenged him and made him re-evaluate his own opinions and actions like she did. No one was as unimpressed by him or as undeterred when he lashed out at her. It was infuriating but when his temper cooled, he always had to admit that she was right at least in part. She was right when she said that he took pains to be unknowable, but she seemed to understand him better than anyone, even if he did not want her to. 

Her eyelids fluttered and he hurried to carefully lay her down on the seat and move away from her, to instead sit on the opposite seat. From a safe distance he continued watching her until she woke up, perplexed about the feelings she evoked in him. Last night she had been such unwelcome company when he stumbled upon her in that alley. How come his feelings were quite the opposite now?

He had continued thinking about it during the journey back to London. In retrospect he felt like he had behaved like a sulking child when he met her last night and he knew well that Georgiana would not have been with them now if it was not for Miss Heywood. She was the one who cleverly had suggested they went to The Sons of Africa, she was the one who had insisted Georgiana might still be hidden in London and thus lead him to think of the boarding house. He would never had succeeded rescuing his ward from ruination had it not been for Miss Heywood.

Thankfully, Georgiana was safe and the girls had talked meanwhile Sidney for the most part had stayed silent, listening to them with half an ear. Georgiana had told them about her abduction and that she had been well treated and not abused in any way, which was a great relief. Miss Haywood had shared their nightly adventures, with some hesitance when it came to disclosing Molyneux’s part in the whole sordid business. She had paused and looked at Sidney. He understood she hesitated because she wanted to spare Georgiana’s feelings, but he nodded for her to go on. Georgiana needed to know it was Molyneux’s gambling depts that had put her in this situation, nearly sold off not much better than when he mother was a slave. 

He had felt pity for her when her eyes filled to the brim with tears. Loving the wrong person hurts, he knew more about that than he cared to. For this reason he checked on the girls after the arrival to Bedford Place, with a sudden urge to try to comfort his unruly ward. 

“What will happen to Otis now? The debtor's prison? Worse?” she asked him.

“He is no longer your concern.”

“Whatever he has done, I cannot just cauterise my heart. I am not you.”

Through her father, Georgiana knew Sidney’s history, but how mistaken she was about how he felt about it. He had no intention to share those sentiments with her though, especially not in front of Miss Heywood. 

“At this moment, your world feels undone, I know that, but you must put him from your mind, or you'll go mad.”

He was not sure that was any comfort at all even it was his intention, and as he excused himself and left the girls he met Miss Heywood’s searching eyes. When he walked down the stairs her words echoed in his head; ‘At every turn you've abdicated responsibility. If you truly cared for her welfare, you would have watched over her yourself.’ He could not help feeling that perhaps she was right, and he had not done what he could for Georgiana. He asked himself if there was anything more he could do at this point.

“Good heavens, Sidney. You have had quite the drama”, Tom said when he summarised the night’s events for him. 

Sidney had joined him in the parlour and poured himself a glass of wine. He longed for a bath but felt he needed to update his brother on the situation first.

“But all is well now!” Tom continued chirpily but Sidney disagreed.

“Is it? I fear Georgiana's spirit is broken. You have no idea how close to ruination she came, Tom.”

“That's hardly your fault.”

“Her father entrusted her to my care. The man saved my life, and in return I failed to honour the one thing that he asked of me.”

“Still, there's no use dwelling on it. What's done is done.”

How delightful it must be to be Tom, never accepting blame or responsibility for anything was his approach to life.

“How can a man begin to make amends until he's willing to face his own faults?” Sidney asked eluding to Tom as much as to himself, but he could see that the remark as usual flew over Tom’s head.

“That's why you came to London, is it not, Tom? To make amends?” he clarified.

“Well, er, no. I mean, I came mainly to raise interest in the regatta.”

“Tom, I was present at the cricket. Be honest with me. Be honest with yourself,” he asked sincerely. It was like Miss Heywood’s provoking yet refreshing way to speak up instead of sweeping things under the carpet, made him want to do the same.

Finally his brother shared with him the gravity of his situation, how he had knocked on half the doors of London and no-one seemed to care a damn about Sanditon or the regatta and now he had no means whatsoever of paying his labourers. Worst of all was that he had lost the trust of his dear wife, perhaps forever.

Sidney sighed, wondering how Tom could have allowed it to come to this. Once he had admired his brother, seen him as his role model, but when he returned an older and wiser man from the West Indies himself he had begun to see the flaws. The way he handled his investments and private economy was a disaster and the only thing left to admire and envy was his marriage, which he now seemed well on his way to ruin too. However, Sidney cared too much for his brother, Mary and the children to let that happen if he could prevent it.

“Well we will raise interest in the regatta yet. Babington will know where best to knock and as for the labourers, I shall lend you the money.”

He had sworn not to be financially involved in Tom’s craziness, but he felt he had to revise that now. Not because he believed in the investment but because he wanted to help those dearest to him, because he was indebted to Tom for helping him in the past… and perhaps because he wanted prove himself a better man than Miss Heywood considered him to be.

“But when it comes to Mary I'm of no use, I cannot pretend to understand the workings of a marriage. What I do know, is I would do anything to be blessed with a wife such as yours. So, you must do whatever it takes.”

When the words left his lips he knew they were true. He had long given up the thought of marriage because he thought he was not suited for it with anyone after Eliza. He realised now that even if he had repressed it, part of him had never stopped hoping and longing to find a woman who would make him feel complete. The sight and sensation of Miss Heywood in his arms came back to him, making him feel strangely warm inside. 

-o-

The housemaid Jenkins had poured Charlotte a bath and provided her with a change of clothes. Charlotte had only brought a very small luggage when she sneaked off to London, but thankfully Mary kept a wardrobe here and Jenkins had found her a dress to borrow. Now she was clean and tidy, unexpectedly well-rested and Georgiana was safe and sound under the same roof, so she did not understand why she felt so out of sorts. Tom found her like that, seated in the library, troubled and unable to focus on the book in her lap.

“How are you Charlotte?” he enquired. Even he, who usually was cheerfully oblivious to other’s mood swings, could see that something was ailing her.  
“It's all been so overwhelming. I hardly know what to think any more.”

“About what, my dear?”

“About anything! I have always felt so certain of my judgment but now I see that I have been blinded by sentiment and naivety. I've got it all so wrong. No wonder your brother has such a poor opinion of me.”

She did not know it but right there, she was approaching the core of the matter; Sidney Parker’s opinion of her. She knew it had swayed between half bad and worse over time, but she was unsure as to what it was now and for some reason eager to know. She could not decipher the way he had looked at her this morning. 

“I am certain that is not the case.” Tom chuckled. “Sidney can be hard to read, that is all.”

“He is a conundrum”, Charlotte sighed heavily.

“But a conundrum can be solved”, Tom tried to appease her.

“He seems so determined to keep the world at arm's length.” She complained, without knowing why that bothered her as it did.

“That wasn't always the case. In his younger days, he was a very different man.”

“Mary has spoken of a broken engagement?” Charlotte did not want to seem overly curious, but truth was that she was dying to learn more. 

“ Yes, Eliza. They were very much in love, but at the last moment, she passed him over in favour of an older and wealthier man. Sidney set out on a rather self-destructive path and we were all greatly concerned. In the end, I paid his debts and he sailed to Antigua in a bid to forget her. I fear the man he was never quite returned.”

Charlotte thought that so sad. No wonder he was disillusioned about love when he had been let down so terribly himself. It was difficult to picture him a young man very much in love, then cruelly deserted. She wished she had known him as he was then, before he started distrusting others. On the other hand it seemed quite unfair of him to judge Otis for his gambling when he had been in the same situation. 

Talking about the devil, they were interrupted by the unexpected appearance of Otis Molyneux, with Sidney close behind him.

“Mr Molyneux?” Charlotte asked but steered her gaze to Mr. Parker for an explanation. Him bringing Otis here was the last thing she had expected. 

“I thought they at least deserved a proper parting”, he told her and led Molyneux up the stairs to Georgiana, leaving Charlotte even more confused than before.  
‘At least they deserve a proper parting.’ The words she had said to him back in Sanditon. He had disregarded them then, brusquely said it was none of her business, but now was making amends for it. Sidney Parker’s actions and whole being was making her increasingly confounded by the minute.


	10. It is an affliction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Charlotte and Sidney attend a London ball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the many kind comments on the previous chapter and the story overall. Happy someone besides me is enjoying it so I feel a bit less like a lunatic for being obsessed with Sanditon.

Charlotte was still as pensive when Sidney sought her out again later that afternoon. 

Babington had called on them shortly after Molyneux’s visit with the good news that he had secured invitations to a masked ball that evening. Everyone would be there, and it was a splendid opportunity to spread the word about Sanditon and the regatta. 

“You must come as well, of course, Miss Heywood”, Babington had finished off, turning to Charlotte, as did the other two men.

She felt all nervous with Sidney’s eyes on her and her hands became clammy. Part of her wanted to go, would love to see what a London ball was like, would love to dance, but she knew she would not be to her advantage after a day like this and though normally curious about all things new, she was also slightly terrified at the prospect of facing a crowd of high society people.

“Thank you, Lord Babington, but I am really not in a mood to be sociable.” 

Mr. Parker was still watching her intently, in the same way he had this morning and she thought he must be relieved to finally be rid of her company. “Excuse me”, she blurted out and left the room, unaware that Sidney’s eyes followed her, silently begging her to change her mind. 

Now he was here in person, doing just that under the pretence that Tom had asked him. 

The Miss Heywood he found was feeling miserable and full of self-doubt. After Otis had left, Georgiana had told her that his confessions about gambling debts confirmed Mr. Parker was right doubting him all this time. Even so, Mr. Parker had paid off all of Otis’s debts. Georgiana still resented her guardian, for it was easier to blame him than the man she loved despite all his flaws. Charlotte however, felt that with all these turns she no longer knew what to make of Mr. Parker. Her thoughts spun with everything she had learned about him recently, trying to mould the pieces together and it made her increasingly doubt her own judgement because he seemed a very different man than she had taken him for. 

When she looked up from the book she was staring at without reading and found him standing in the doorway with dark eyes fixed on her, her cheeks turned hot.   
“Tom sent me up in the hope that you might reconsider and come to the party tonight. The regatta was your idea after all.”

“Why did you pay off Otis's debts?” she asked abruptly instead of answering him.

His expression became bashful, but he met her gaze with earnest in his.

“I came to the realisation that a good man shouldn't be condemned for one terrible mistake.” 

Charlotte had the sensation something heavy pressed over her chest, feeling like she was the one who had made an enormous mistake here and had to rectify it. Upset she got to her feet and struggled to find the right words, words which would be enough.

“Mr. Parker, I owe you an apology. I accused you of the worst kind of prejudice when it came…” she started breathlessly but he took a step closer and cut her short.

“I do not accept your apology.”

Heart heat sank to her feet. It was too late. She had judged him wrongly and now he would not even let her make amends for it, or perhaps it was like the very first time she tried to apologise to him; he simply did not care what she thought or felt. 

“Why not?” she still had to ask with quivering voice.

“Because I'm the one that should apologise.” His chest heaved like he found this difficult too. “I have done you a great discourtesy, Miss Heywood. I've underestimated you.”

Stunned as she was, she was unable to manage a coherent answer before he gave her a curt nod, turned and left. Trembling she sat down again and did not notice that the book had fallen to the floor. This day real life contained more excitement and unexpected turns than any book could bring her. Never had she expected Sidney Parker to apologise to her like this, and to pay her the compliment that he had underestimated her. She was not sure why he had changed his mind, but she clearly had underestimated him and now had him less figured out than ever.

-o-

Sidney was pleased to learn from Tom that Miss Heywood in the end had changed her mind and would join them to the ball, despite that he had lost his courage in the middle of the speech aimed to make her reconsider. When she flustered had tried to apologise to him, he simply had to stop her and apologise instead because he knew now that he was the one at fault. This made her look at him with searching wonder and he felt totally exposed, so many emotions evoked inside him that he was compelled to leave, not to make a fool of himself. He had cursed between gritted teeth afterwards, that he had wasted his chance to persuade her because he very much wanted her to come. When Tom casually told him she would after all, he instantly felt happy as a fiddle.

Jenkins had been sent to help Miss Heywood prepare and Sidney hoped the maid would make her presentable enough for a high society ball. He did not doubt that she would be beautiful either way, she always was, but she had looked so delicate and vulnerable this afternoon and he wanted her to feel like she fit in in the fashionable company so she could amuse herself.

As soon as he saw her slowly stepping down the stairs all such thoughts vanished, and he took in the sight of her in awe. She looked every bit a lady and the most beautiful one he had ever seen. Her dark hair and brown eyes were enhanced by an exquisite gold-shimmering dress and her natural beauty increased by the fact that she was unaware of it. She could not help but noticing his intense stare and seemed to mistake the admiration for scrutiny, wrongly assuming he found her inadequately attired for the occasion. 

“Does it not suit me? Will it not do?” she asked, when she finally stood before him and he had to hold back a laughter because the question was so ridiculous when she looked like this. 

He could not laugh at her though when she watched him with those sincere doe eyes. He found it utterly endearing that she did not understand, that if even someone were to look at her all evening long they would be unable to find any fault. She was perfection, she was everything. He felt a wave of affection combined with protectiveness and something else shoot up inside him and if Tom had not been watching them in that moment, he was not sure what he would have done.

“It'll do very well”, he answered solemnly, thinking it was the understatement of the year.

When they arrived at Mrs. Maudsley’s at Grosvenor Square where the party was hosted, he was incredibly proud to enter by her side. Even hidden behind a mask he found her prettier than anyone else in the room and he was grateful when his brother, Babington and Crowe disappeared in different directions, so he got her to himself for a while.

“Well, Miss Heywood. Are you not glad you came, after all?” He glanced around the magnificently room filled with elegant people.

“I cannot say that I am. I feel dreadful leaving Georgiana. At least I'm glad of the mask. I am certain I don't belong in this company.”

Her honesty and wavering confidence touched him. In one way he wished she would feel at home here, but in one way he liked that she did not because neither did he.

“I don't think I do either.”

“But this is your natural habitat, is it not?”

He heard the surprise in her voice but had been open with her in return for her honesty and shared something very few knew. He was a gentleman by birth, wealthy enough and had connections in all the right places, thus had an indisputable right to attend these gatherings to the envy of many, but that did not mean that he ever had become accustomed to it. He pretended to enjoy it, but seldom really did. It was all too superficial and made him long for something genuine. Like her.

“Perhaps I don't truly belong anywhere. As you said, I am an outlier.”

It was strange how every single remark Miss Heywood made about his character seemed to stick with him, made him scrutinise himself and wonder if he could change for the better.

“I cannot see how conversation is even possible when the room is so loud, and everyone is on the move.”

He smiled as she put her finger exactly on what bothered him with events like this.

“No one is here for conversation. They're here to be seen. Once their presence is acknowledged, they'll move on to the next gathering.”

Much like butterflies, beautifully dancing around among flowers but caring about little.

“I think I would like to leave now too, with your permission.” She shyly looked up on him and it stung in his heart how uncomfortable and out of place she felt here. For some reason the adventurous, happy girl was lost right now, and he wanted to help her return. He did not want her to leave but could not help smiling at the question.

“With my permission? Since when have you required my permission to do anything?” 

He did not intend it like criticism, but she took it to heart.

“I know. I'm too headstrong, too opinionated and too…”

He loved how expressive her face was when she spoke but had to interrupt her for the second time this day, to set things right.

“No. You're not "too" anything. Don't doubt yourself. You're more than equal to any woman here”, he said softly but firm.

She looked at him with a confused expression and he understood why, given the harsh things he had said to her in the past. He wanted to tell her how come he had changed his mind, but they were interrupted by Babington appearing next to them and Tom shouting for Sidney across the room, waving him over. Reluctantly he left her side, reluctantly she watched him go. Strange enough, she felt like he was her anchor point in this posh company.

-o-

Charlotte turned to Babington, grateful to at least have someone who was a bit familiar by her side and Babington seemed a decent man. 

“I noticed you and Miss Denham were enjoying each other's company at the cricket match”, she tried to make polite conversation.

“Hm, yes. I had thought so too, Miss Heywood, but apparently I was mistaken.”   
He was silent for a moment, then added as an afterthought; “You're a woman, Miss Heywood. Tell me this; is it possible for your affections towards a man to alter entirely within the space of a single day?”

Was he talking about Esther Denham or was he talking about her? Charlotte looked at Sidney Parker across the room, taller and more handsome than any of the other men around and when their eyes locked for a moment she felt like her heart stopped, to then pick up with double pace. The answer was, yes, it was possible, because her feelings towards Sidney Parker were very different now from what they had been last night. Or perhaps they were not, but his actions had made her re-evaluate what she felt all along but did not accept before. She realised Babington was looking expectantly at her, awaiting her response but could give none, too overwhelmed by her own emotions.

“Forgive me, Lord Babington. This room is rather too crowded, I'm finding it hard to breathe.”

She hurriedly left him and the main ball room. Only a few steps away she found a quite secluded room where the doors to a balcony were ajar. She stepped close to the opening and inhaled deeply. The cool evening air had a calming effect on her, and she felt her pulse slow down. 

“My sentiments exactly.” Someone spoke behind her and startled she turned around to find a beautiful dark-haired lady seated there with a book in hand, implying a kindred spirit.

“Oh, I'm sorry. I thought I was…”

“That's quite all right. I cannot blame you for seeking a safe harbour. It is an altogether tedious gathering. And now you are going to tell me that Mrs. Maudsley is your mother and I have just committed an unspeakable solecism.” The woman looked half amused, half guilty.

“No! No, I do not know her in the slightest. Indeed, I barely know a soul in London”, Charlotte reassured her. “But from what I have seen of the place, that is no great hardship”, she added, right then realising how much she longed to be back in Sanditon, or even Willingden. She felt like London and the people here were far more than she had bargained for when she sought for new experiences.

“If you dislike London so much, then why are you here?”, the lady kindly asked. 

As she seemed genuinely interested, Charlotte sat down beside her and told her the story how her heiress friend had been abducted and nearly forced to marry but saved in time and now she was here at this party to spread the word of the regatta but singularly failing in that task. The words poured out of her because it was a relief to have someone friendly to talk to but suddenly she stopped, abashed.

“Forgive me. I am inclined to talk too much, Mrs?”

“Susan. And who might you be?” Lady Susan kept smiling as if Charlotte’s talking had not bothered her the least.

“Charlotte Heywood.”

“Forgive me for asking, Charlotte, but you seem somewhat befuddled.”

“Do I?”

Lady Susan nodded and after a brief hesitation Charlotte told her. It was a relief talking to a stranger, to be able to talk about things that she had not been able to share with anyone. Not with Georgiana because she knew she resented Mr. Parker, not with her sister Alison in her letters because the sister would not understand the complexity of everything when she had not met the mysterious Sidney Parker herself. Somehow she had a feeling Lady Susan might understand.

“There is a certain gentleman. Mr. Sidney Parker. Mr. Tom Parker's brother.” Lady Susan nodded for her to go on, her curiosity about this pretty girl grew by the minute.

“He inspires an anger in me, I did not know I possessed. And yet I find that his good opinion means more to me than anybody else's. How can that be?”

“It sounds to me as if you are in love with him.”

“What? No! I assure you, that could not be further from the truth. If I should ever fall in love, it would not be with a man like him.”

She was not sure what kind of man it would be, but surely not with one that made her feel like an emotional wreck.

“My dear girl, you cannot determine who you fall in love with. It is an affliction. Like the measles.”

Charlotte was still taking her words in when the two women were interrupted by the man in question.

-o-

When Sidney managed to tear away from Tom and his talk of the regatta, he did not see Miss Heywood anywhere at first. For a while he thought she had left without bidding farewell and was filled with deep disappointment, until Babington told him that she had gone to find some fresh air. He walked down a passageway in search for her and suddenly heard her voice, talking to another woman. What they said made him stop in his tracks.

“There is a certain gentleman. Mr Sidney Parker. Mr Tom Parker's brother. He inspires an anger in me, I did not know I possessed. And yet I find that his good opinion means more to me than anybody else's. How can that be?”

He smiled and bit his lip. Those were his sentiments exactly, about her.

“It sounds to me as if you are in love with him.”

The lady’s word sent a shock through Sidney. Was that it?! Was she in love with him? Was he in love with her? 

“What? No! I assure you, that could not be further from the truth. If I should ever fall in love, it would not be with a man like him.” 

Miss Heywood’s reaction was as strong as his and quite offensive. Really? Why not? Because he was not good enough for her? Or because he had been a brute to her at times? Had he not redeemed himself so it would not be an utterly preposterous idea to fall in love with him? He continued listening, not knowing he was holding his breath.

“My dear girl, you cannot determine who you fall in love with. It is an affliction. Like the measles.”

He would have loved to hear her answer, but some other guests approached and if he stayed put he would be caught eaves dropping, which hardly was honourable, so instead he joined the ladies with heart thumping hard in his chest whilst trying to seem casual.

“There you are! I was beginning to think you'd made your escape.”

Once it has seemed frustratingly impossible to escape the ubiquitous Miss Heywood. How strange that the last thing he wanted now was for her to escape from him. She sat next to a very elegant lady and he was amused by her ability to make new friends in unexpected places.

“Might I presume you are Mr Sidney Parker? We were just discussing you.” The stranger eyed him up and down and he felt slightly embarrassed.  
“Right. Well, erm I was wondering if Miss Heywood might like to dance? If I'm not interrupting that is?”

“Not in the least”, the lady reassured him, but he had a feeling Miss Heywood would have preferred to stay where she was. Nevertheless, he gave her his arm and lead her towards the dance floor. She stopped him before they reached it.

“You did not have to ask me, you know, out of politeness.”

His motives were so far from that, but he dared not tell her.

“It is what people do at dances, is it not? Dance? Unless you'd rather not?”

He held his breath again, hoping she would not turn him down.

“No. It's only, there are so many other ladies here that you could ask.”

“But I don't want to dance with them.”

He exhaled when she accepted with a graceful bend of her neck.

How very different this dance was from the first dance he danced with her. That time he had danced against his will, because etiquette demanded it, stiffly holding her at arm’s length. This evening, she was the only one he had eyes for, the only one he wanted to dance with, and he wanted it more than anything. No, not more than anything but it was the only thing he could allow himself to do. 

Holding her gently in his arms, swirling her around only fingertips touching, he wished he could pull her closer. When she slid her gloved hand into his, it fit so perfectly, like a missing piece of a puzzle that made him complete and he could imagine too well how sublimely the length of their full bodies would fit together. When their faces were inches apart, with eyes firmly locked, it took all his willpower not to bend closer and place his lips to hers. Every time she turned away from him in the dance, he felt bereft and then relieved when she turned so their eyes met again. He was gravitating towards her and it took considerable strength to resist. He wanted to sink into her, drown in her, allow himself to want her and need her and he thought he saw it mirrored in her big brown eyes looking up at him and in her shy, warm but disbelieving smile. 

Most of this, Sidney did not put words to as conscious thoughts in his mind, he simply felt it with every nerve, sensed it with every part of his being. He did wonder though why her expression during most of the dance implied that she found it hard to believe he really wished to be here with her, that he enjoyed her company. How could she find that so impossible to believe? Maybe because Sidney himself hardly could believe he finally was allowing himself to feel like this. Or ‘allowing’ himself, he was quite unable to prevent it. He had not asked for it nor welcomed it at first, just like being the guardian for Georgiana, but he had no choice in this matter. He had struggled against it in vain, but Miss Heywood was irresistible. Finally he had accepted that fact and giving in made him feel jubilantly light at heart. Never had he felt such intense happiness mixed with dazing attraction as during this dance.

Yet, she first looked at him like she expected him to cast her away or give her another tongue lashing any minute. He resented how cold and distant he must have seemed to her before, because there could be no other reason for her to doubt herself as lovely as she was. As the tune played he found himself entranced with her and the rest of the room faded away. All he saw was her eyes, her smile. When her smile became wider and less guarded, he realised he was smiling wide himself, like he almost never did. He felt boyish and playful, then when he suddenly held her closer than etiquette prescribed, he turned serious again and felt very much like an adult red-blooded male, yearning to be alone with her. Her expression became serious too and when the music stopped they remained still, holding each other a few moments longer, breathing with the same pace, caught up in the intensity of their unspoken feelings. If the crowd had not surrounded them, he would have kissed her there and then. 

He had to let her go for now though, took a step back, cleared his throat and tried to regain his composure. In doing so, he broke the electrifying eye contact and turned his gaze towards the other end of the room and froze. Because there, a handsome woman just removed the mask from her face and bestowed him a most welcoming smile.

This was someone he had wanted to see for so many years, who had occupied his thoughts even at thousands of miles’ distance, even if she was the very cause for him travelling so far from home. He had been desperate for a smile or a touch then, but now the unexpected sight made his blood turn cold. His long lost love, Eliza.


	11. What are my sentiments, exactly?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sidney is trying to figure out what he wants, and Charlotte is confused and disappointed

Mr. Parker had held her so close during the dance, closer than one was supposed to and yet she had felt like it was not close enough. His breath fanned on her face, his palm rested equally comforting and thrilling on the small of her back and she had the sensation of nearly touching his broad chest because his body heat escaped him and filled the narrow space between them. He had looked at her with an intensity no man had before so she had felt almost naked under his gaze but not uncomfortable, sooner like she wanted him to look at her like that when they were all alone, doing things to her she had not experienced before and knew little of. 

His expression had shifted as they floated over the floor, from serious, to joyful, then back to serious again in a way that made her skin prickle. She could still not fully understand this change in him since last night; his unexpected repeated praise of her, how he no longer seemed to wish to escape her but on the contrary keep her close. It made her heart thump hard in her chest, made her feel heated, made her want to be closer to him than was appropriate for a lady to be with a man who was not her husband. She could not quite grasp this change in herself either. Lady Susan’s words echoed in her head; ‘It sound as if you are in love with him’. Was it possible? Was this what love felt like? She had always thought love would be a natural, uncomplicated feeling, like finding a safe harbour, nothing like the stormy feelings she had to admit she had for Sidney Parker. She was unable to shake them off though and strangely enjoyed them more and more when she allowed herself to give in to them. 

When the music paused, she wished this was not the end. She wanted to stay in his arms, loose herself in him. For a moment he seemed as lost in her as she was in him, but he pulled himself together faster than she was capable of, took a deep breath and broke eye contact. His eyes fell on someone, he abruptly excused himself and disappeared across the room. She was a bit taken aback but still in high spirits when Tom asked her to dance. She thought Mr. Parker would return to her soon for sure.

“How happy I am to see the light return to your eyes, Charlotte”, Tom had said.

“There is nothing like dancing to restore one's spirits!”

“Quite so, my dear, quite so. It seems to have had a similar effect upon Sidney.”

“Do you think so?” Her heart made a little somersault. If Tom had noticed Sidney’s changed manners towards her and an improvement in his mood it was not only in her imagination.

“It's undeniable. He is positively revivified, but then perhaps that is not so much due to the dancing, as to the presence of a certain young lady.”

“Which young lady do you have in mind, sir?” Charlotte held her breath, hoping he would say she was silly for not knowing it was herself he eluded to, but he did not.

“He's talking to her now. Mrs Campion. It's unmistakably her. How strange that we were just discussing her only this afternoon. I heard she'd been widowed, I had no idea she was in London.”

Only now did Charlotte see that the person Sidney had left her for was a very beautiful lady and she turned cold for some reason. A smiling Mr. Parker seemed to be absorbed by the woman in front of him. He did not feel Charlotte´s eyes on him and did look up to search for her. Breathing got harder.

“I do not recall discussing a Mrs Campion.”

“Ah! I daresay I referred to her by her Christian name. Eliza. Perhaps they will have their chance of happiness after all”, he mused. “Excuse me Charlotte, I will go and greet her as well. Perhaps she will be interested in our regatta.”

Tom’s words were like a wet blanket suddenly covering her from top to toe. The elusive Eliza, the woman who had broken off an engagement and sent Sidney Parker on a downwards spiral until he went off to the West Indies instead. Judging by the way they leaned towards each other talking and her hand on his arm, all that was forgotten. As was apparently Charlotte. Had they agreed to meet here tonight, and she was in fact the reason for the change in him? Perhaps Charlotte was just a way of passing time until Mrs. Campion appeared. Suddenly the walls seemed to close in on her and before Tom set off to join them she told him she wanted to leave. He did not accompany her to find a carriage, but she was only grateful for that, as it meant she did not have to keep appearances up. She was feeling devastated, like lightning had struck her and all she wanted was to hide from the world in her bed.

-o-

Hours later Sidney was pacing back and forth in his room. The Parker family’s house at Bedford Place was the closest to a home he had, as he had not bothered to buy something of his own after the return to England. His brothers spent most of their days in Sanditon, so he often had the place to himself anyway. Now he was all too aware of the other guests sleeping under this roof, one in particular. He had not even attempted to go to bed after his return to the house, too agitated by the turn of events this evening. 

During that dazzling dance and at the end of it, he had been convinced that there was nowhere in the world he would rather be than by Charlotte Heywood’s side. Then he had looked up and seen Mrs. Campion, no longer a figment of his imagination but standing there in the flesh smiling invitingly at him. He had heard a while ago that she was widowed but had brushed it off, thinking it did not change anything between them. It had not occurred to him to seek her out for he had long ago accepted that she was lost to him forever. Her smile now told him something else though. 

Without really thinking, he left Charlotte and approached Mrs. Campion, unable to resist as if she were a Siren calling and he a lost sailor. He felt the urge to know what she was like after all this time and needed to find out how she would look at him. Ten years older, wealthier and more influential he was for sure a better match than the young man she once had passed over. 

Up close she was as beautiful as ever, older but still young and with the same classic blonde elegance she always had possessed. It was apparent that she was pleased to see him, and he did not know if he was relieved or disturbed by how easy she seemed to be in his company. Her manners implied no embarrassment or regret over the choice she once had made; breaking their engagement, breaking his heart for a wealthier husband. She smiled sweetly at him, possessively put her hand on his arm whilst effortlessly making conversation and without hesitation called him by his Christian name. He almost reluctantly called her by hers in return but found that in his head she remained Mrs. Campion, the woman who had married another. She behaved like it was only yesterday they last met, ignoring the past decade, husband and events in his life she knew nothing off. Yet, she drew him in. She reminisced of a common past when life was easy and Sidney unjaded. She had been the epitome of elusive love in his mind for so long but was now standing before him beaming at him. She was so enchanting that he only could smile in return but inside he remained on his guard, because he was not naïve like he had been back then. Nevertheless, he was so occupied reading her, her thoughts about him, what her intentions were in reconnecting with him, that he forgot about Charlotte. 

Now, returned to his room, he did not even understand how that was possible given how he had felt during the dance, but there it was. Mrs. Campion’s reappearance captivated him to the extent that he for a while forgot about everything else. It was only when Tom joined them, happily greeting her, sharing the news of the regatta and without Sidney’s consent invited her to come to Sanditon, that he woke up from the spell and immediately was struck by remorse. 

“Where is Miss Heywood?” he anxiously asked Tom.

“Don’t worry. She was exhausted after this adventurous day and took a carriage back to Bedford Place. She is quite safe, I can assure you.”

Sidney was not concerned about her safety, he worried about what she must think of him. Even if she had denied being in love with him to that lady, she surely must have felt the same, tangible connection between them during the dance and then he had deserted her abruptly, sought the company of another woman and ignored her. He was not pleased with himself, but he could not change it now. He wanted to run after her but knew he could not do it without making a spectacle of himself and it was likely too late anyway. Instead he made conversation with Mrs. Campion, smiled when she smiled, politely fetched her refreshments but did not ask her to dance. He was not in the mood for further dancing and after an hour he announced that he too would withdraw for the evening. 

“I’m sorry to hear that, Sidney”, said Mrs. Campion with a mocking giggle. “I never knew you to be one to call it a night so early.”

He had on his tongue that a decade had passed since she knew him and she had no idea how he was now, but he bit back the words knowing she meant no harm.  
His intention had been to ignore Tom’s previous words about her coming to Sanditon, but she would not let him forget them.

“Before you leave, pray tell me; this regatta your brother mentioned, when is it due?”

“Next Saturday.”

“Would you welcome me there? Host me as your guest? A regatta sounds amusing and it would be lovely if you accompanied me from London, so I don’t have to do that tedious journey alone with only my maid.”

She had not asked him if he was married or engaged but perhaps she knew he was not. Her interest in him flattered his ego but he found it slightly disturbing how convinced she seemed to be that he wished to be with her. Her tone of voice suggested that she expected a favourable answer and Sidney found himself cornered. He was not sure at all that he wanted Mrs. Campion there for the regatta. For one thing he did not know what his feelings for her presently were, secondly this regatta was something he had been looking forward to experience with Charlotte now when they were on good terms. The regatta was her idea, she had helped to make it come to life and he now realised that he unconsciously had imagined to share it with her. It would be very impolite and definite to turn down Mrs. Campion’s request though, putting an abrupt end to reacquainting himself with her and he was not prepared to do that either. Faced with two options of which he liked neither, he hesitated but leaned towards saying no when Tom intervened again. His brother was so excited at the prospect of prominent visitors that he did not dwell on how Sidney might feel about having Mrs. Campion there.

“Of course you must come! Sidney will be delighted to have you there as will Mary and I. Splendid, splendid!” he said exuberantly, clapping his hands together.  
Sidney had nodded in acceptance then, there was no other choice if he did not want to come off as terribly rude, but it did not sit well with him and now in the solitude of his room he felt trapped somehow. Without succeeding he tried to figure out what he truly felt about Mrs. Campion returning into his life but most of all his thoughts went to Charlotte, sleeping only a few steps away. What had she felt, what had she thought of him when she left the ball and what would she think when he brought Eliza Campion to Sanditon?

Yesterday evening in the carriage she had accused him of being insensitive of feeling. Of all accusations she had made against him, this was the one he found to be most unfair next to that of him being racist and it was the one that disturbed him most. First he had not known why but processing it over and over during the night with her in his arms he had finally understood it. 

Sidney had gone to lengths to distance himself to others not to be hurt again, but in doing so he had become skilled at hiding who he really to the point that he nearly had forgot it himself. No wonder he always seemed to be lacking good qualities in her eyes, when he deliberately chose not to share of himself. If he wanted her to ever think differently of him, he had to show her who he truly was, open up, let her inside. It was a daunting challenge, one that made him terrified, but he had realised that even so, he felt compelled to try and had during the past day and evening. He had noticed how this shift confused her, but she also seemed to appreciate it. How strange it then must seem to her that he at the first opportunity turned to another woman and dismissed her. This realisation made him feel ashamed of himself. He wanted to make amends for it but was not sure how in the current situation, because he was undoubtedly curious how things could develop with Mrs. Campion as well and she would inevitably come to Sanditon. 

When someone has wanted something for very long, and it suddenly and unexpectedly is within reach, it may be difficult to grasp that wishes have altered over time. The love of Eliza was an illusion, as much now as during the ten years they were apart, but this night Sidney Parker had not yet reached that insight and his own indecisiveness tore him apart and kept him awake until the early morning hours. 

Next day, him and Charlotte travelled back to Sanditon but in the company of Tom and Georgiana so he could not talk to her about the things he would have liked to even if he had dared. Her expression would perhaps have discouraged him anyway, because her face was blank and her eyes like opaque hazel coloured stones, giving away none of her feelings. For once, she was quiet, and her emotions locked inside. The connection he had sensed during the dance had either been a fantasy or was undeniably broken. Strangely, Sidney had shared more of himself than he had for long, and now Charlotte had retreated within herself where he did not know how to reach her.

-o-

Charlotte felt very uneasy during the carriage ride back to Sanditon. Over breakfast that morning, Tom chirpily had shared what she had missed after her early departure from the ball; how they had reacquainted themselves with the lovely Mrs. Campion and Sidney had invited her to the regatta, which was wonderful indeed as she had a large fortune and was very well-connected.

“I will not be the least surprised if my brother is getting engaged in the near future, mark my words”, he added conspiratorially and tapped the side of his nose with his index finger.

A wave of nausea welled up in Charlotte and she excused herself from the table, just as Sidney made a late entrance. He looked tired, with dark shadows under his eyes and she thought he must have had a very late night up, probably enjoying the company of Mrs. Campion. 

She could no longer keep up with her own shifting emotions. Yesterday he had stirred awake something in her which she never had felt before and today it seemed like he was spoken for by another, making her current feelings futile and ridiculous. It made her confused, sad and introspective to the extent that she missed the glimmer in the depth of his eyes that could have told her she had not been wrong when her intuition said he had feelings for her.

Back in Sanditon he took a room at the hotel again instead of staying with Tom and Mary, so a few days passed when she did not see him at all. Part of her was relieved, part of her longed to be in his presence again. She wished she would stop thinking of him but found it impossible. It was like once the idea that she might be in love with him had rooted in her, she could not rid herself of it. She tortured herself replaying past conversations between them, regretting she had been so outspoken and critical. She must seem so childish and impulsive to him, compared to Mrs. Campion whose appearance had been so controlled and coolly elegant. No wonder he chose her over a silly girl like Charlotte. 

His face often appeared before her, the stern version as well as the tender one. When she thought of how he had looked at her in the carriage, when she came down the stairs before the ball and during the dance, hope flared up inside her but then she remembered all the times he had been angry with her and felt like a fool for even for a minute thinking he might be in love with her.

Despite that he was on her mind almost constantly, or perhaps because of it, she was unprepared to meet him when she finally ran into him. He came out from Georgiana’s room having paid his ward a visit and Charlotte was about to do the same. She had only just run into James Stringer and thought to herself how nice it was with men who did not leave her feeling like she was treading in a swamp. With Mr. Parker it seemed like every step she took from the day she met him only had led her deeper into trouble, meanwhile with Mr. Stringer things were as easy as if he were one of her younger brothers. Just as the thought crossed her mind she bumped into said Mr. Parker and her heart immediately race proving her right – more trouble.

Since their return to Sanditon, Georgiana had been very dispirited. Charlotte was worried for her and visited her every day, but always found her lying in bed, refusing to leave Mrs. Griffith’s house. The expression on Mr. Parker’s face right now suggested he was as worried as Charlotte.

“How did you find her?” she asked him as soon as she found her bearings after the collision.

“Oh I daresay you'll have more luck.” His words were nonchalant, but he did not look it and after a brief pause he added, stuttering slightly; “I, er I might wait for you downstairs if you don't mind?”

“No. Not at all.” 

Still, she half expected him to disappear and was pleasantly surprised when he stayed true to his word and waited without looking impatient when she came down the stairs a while later. Her whole being was tense, she both wanted and did not want to be with him.

“You must be patient with Georgiana”, she said. “Every minute spent apart is… Well, you know how sharp the agony of separation can be.” 

With these words she acknowledged that she knew of his past and that he suffered too. Little did he know that because of him she now understood that type of sentiment far better than she would have only days ago. Tense she awaited his reaction, wondering if he would be annoyed she knew and even more annoyed she brought it up, but it had never been in her personality to avoid difficult topics.

“Yes, I expect you're right, Miss Heywood”, he simply said. “Although fate has a strange way of surprising even the most jaded amongst us.”

He must find it the most amazing stroke of luck to have met Mrs. Campion again. Charlotte felt like a cold hand was squeezing her heart but smiled bravely at him. 

“You are not nearly as unfeeling as you pretend.”

“Well, if that is the case, I would ask you to keep it to yourself. I have a reputation to uphold”, he jested with a smile in return and she thought how unfair it was that he seemed so wonderful now when he was more out of reach to her than ever. She had been a fool to believe that he ever was attainable and now she felt like a small part of her was withering.

“Your secret is safe with me”, she answered and despite all, felt like they were sharing something important here. Perhaps he could be her friend like Mr. Stringer was after all, one day when she had ceased to have feelings for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: If you were expecting we would make it to the lovely boat scene in this chapter I am sorry to disappoint you, but I felt like there was so much to explore about their feelings in this part of the story, especially Sidney’s. HOW could he run to Mrs. C after a dance when he basically looked like he wanted to devour Charlotte? How could he bring Mrs. C to Sanditon? Surprise, habit, ego, curiosity, politeness, fear of letting a dream pass him by, those were my thoughts about that. 
> 
> I included a small alteration in his thoughts about Charlotte in this chapter compared to previous. Did you notice what it was?


	12. In the spirit of forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which weather is sunny but minds are clouded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: So, the small change in how Sidney thinks of Charlotte which I sneaked in in previous chapter, was that he stopped thinking of her as Miss Heywood. He still calls her that but thinks of her as Charlotte, as opposed to Mrs C who stays Mrs C in his mind even when he sees himself forced to call her Eliza.
> 
> Sorry, I still did not make it to rowing before this chapter got too long but there is so much to imagine about what went on inside their minds, especially Sidney’s. I think Charlotte’s thoughts were quite transparent and in line with how she acted, but he was so contradictory, and I think that was because he struggled internally. Hope you enjoy this version of their thoughts.

He had deliberately stayed away from Charlotte for a few days after the return to Sanditon to try to sort out his thoughts but stayed in town as he felt obliged to keep an eye on Georgiana. When he finally ran into her at Mrs. Griffiths’ school house he was so ridiculously happy to see her that he on impulse asked if she would mind if he waited for her downstairs. She looked astonished over the request and he found that he wished she was not. He wanted her to know how much he had come to enjoy her company, even if he did not necessarily wish for her to know he felt like a nervous school boy standing there waiting, hat in hand. Knowing he would bring Mrs. Campion to Sanditon shortly he did not feel at liberty to share those feelings with her, but as they walked down the main street side by side, he was more at ease than he had been since the evening of the ball. His shoulders relaxed, the muscles at the back of his neck magically loosened up and his jaw became less tight as he felt compelled to smile at her. 

When she told him he was not nearly as unfeeling as he pretended to be, he took it as the compliment it was and was pleased to have managed to in some way show her he was not the insensitive man she had accused him of being. Jokingly he asked her to keep it to herself because he had a reputation to uphold, but truly enjoyed the feeling of sharing a secret with her. She understood him like no one else and he had come to appreciate that.

Simultaneously, there was a streak of desperation to his feelings during the short walk to Trafalgar house. There was so much he would have liked to talk to her about, but did not know how to say. He struggled with how to initiate the conversation given the relationship they had, or rather lack of such. They had no official ties and no feelings had been mentioned except his presumed lack thereof. To the world she was Tom’s guest and he the brother, nothing more. He was not certain what they were to each other in her mind.

He wanted to explain to her and apologise for abandoning her at the ball, but she had not come there are his partner and they had made no promises except what he had imagined seeing in her eyes, so he would appear foolish if he attempted that conversation. He wanted to tell her, warn her, that Mrs. Campion was coming for the regatta, but again, if this meant nothing to Charlotte he would seem like a presumptuous fool. So Sidney mentioned nothing of this, just basked in the warmth of her smile for a while, relieved that her face was less stony than it had been on the way back from London and postponed thinking of the predicament he foresaw it would be to have the two women near each other, with Mrs. Campion expecting him to entertain her. He did not think Charlotte would demand anything from him, but that did not mean that he did not want to give it.

Too soon they reached the door of Trafalgar house. He was reluctant to leave her but had no valid reason to linger as he already had met with Tom earlier.

“Er, I am travelling back to London this afternoon.”

“But you will return for the regatta?” His heart stirred when her expression turned anxious, but did she care about him for him, or only as a participant in the event?

“It is just a brief visit and I will return tomorrow evening, so I will be here for the regatta. I would not miss it for the world”, he smiled down on her, but there was a sadness in that smile as he knew he would not return alone and would not be able to spend the day with her as he had liked to.

“Then I am looking forward to seeing you soon again, Mr. Parker.” 

She blushed and in that moment he was so close to asking her what that meant but found he only dared to joke in return.

“Does this mean you now find my company slightly more endurable than during Mrs. Denham’s pineapple luncheon?” he smirked.

“Perhaps a little, but only because you have learned to be civil”, she answered with a twinkle to her eyes that made his stomach twist. 

-o-

He travelled back direction Sanditon already the next day, accompanying Mrs. Campion and her maid in his former fiancée’s exclusive carriage. Not only was she a widow, she was one of the richest widows in the country and added to that still young and beautiful, so she would undoubtedly have a long line of interested suitors, should she wish to re-marry. During the many hours on country roads, Sidney was contemplating if he seriously considered joining that line. He could not help reminiscing another recent carriage ride with another lady.

He still found Mrs. Campion very handsome, anyone in their right mind would, but did not fervently admire her features like he did in his youth. It was not because she had aged, even if he when observing her in broad daylight noticed a few fine lines to her face which had not been there before. By the corners of her mouth and eyes, those lines were tilting downwards as if caused by constant displeasure or bitterness, rather than upwards smiling creases and he wondered what had made her feel that way. Yet those lines did not make the difference, it was simply so that he was not as attracted to her polished, classic features with blue eyes, blonde neatly arranged hair and pale skin as he had been once. It seemed like unruly dark locks, hazel eyes and freckles from spending too much time in the sun were more to his taste, preferably combined with smile dimples but adorable even with a frowned brow. He snorted out a laugh when he thought of the number of times he had provoked that frown and Mrs. Campion looked at him quizzically because he had been so grave up to then.

“Something amusing you wish to share, Sidney?”

“Er, no. I was just thinking about the gentlemen’s amateur rowing which Tom has made me agree to participate in. I really need to practice before or I’ll make a spectacle of myself.”

“Oh. Then I shall be waiting at the hotel, stepping into a boat with an inexperienced rower is more excitement than I find appealing. My dress would be ruined if I fell into the water.” She giggled in a way that let him know how unthinkable such behaviour was.

He nodded and made no attempt persuading her to join him. More important than her looks being less desirable to him than in the past, was that during this carrige ride it also had become painfully clear he did not enjoy conversating with her like he used to. The fact of the matter was that she spoke of the very same things she had done when they were seventeen; the beau monde, balls, gossip, dresses. The difference was that at seventeen he had been charmed merely by her voice, her laughter, her pink soft lips moving and further distracted by her cleavage. That spell was broken, and it took more to impress him nowadays. He was not a hormonal adolescent, but a man who had come to appreciate deeper conversations and who had learned that it was possible to have such with the female sex too. He had experienced that unusually often as of late. When they approached Sanditon, he realised that with Mrs. Campion he had not talked of anything substantial during the entire journey. She had not expressed any intelligent or challenging opinions, had verbalised no thoughts which engaged him, or questioned anything he said. 

It also disturbed him how she continued to act like the past decade did not exist. She made no attempt to apologise for her decision then, inquire as to how he had handled it or even ask what he had done with his life all these years. It was like she conveniently chose to ignore what had transpired. When he tried to ask her about her life in the past years, she swiftly switched topic to talk of a ball she had attended recently, and he did not know more about her when they approached Sanditon than when they departed from London. She did not mention her marriage or if there were any children. He would have respected and accepted if she had said she loved her husband, but it was like he never existed. Sidney wondered if the downwards lines in her face implied it had been loveless all along, a mere stepping stone to get her hands on the fortune that now was hers. He found it hard to believe she might be that cold-hearted, but he hardly knew what else to think. After a few attempts to talk about anything that mattered, he gave up and absentmindedly listened when she chatted with her maid about what clothes she wished to wear during the regatta and how she wanted to try out the new fashionable hairdo Lady Something had the other week.

When the carriage passed by the spot where he for the first time had encountered Charlotte in the company of Mary and taken her for a new maid, he remembered how he had mistaken her for insignificant and bland. How he had been forced to re-evaluate that notion. It dawned on him that upon reacquainting himself with Mrs. Campion she was indeed the one who proved to be quite insipid. He was relieved when they finally stopped outside The Crowne Hotel and, naturally, went to separate rooms. He did not even wish they shared one.

Later, after they had freshened up after the journey, he somewhat reluctantly brought her over to Trafalgar house. He grew increasingly nervous and irritable for every step of the way there, so it was fortunate it was only a short distance’s walk. 

His niece, Jenny, happily greeted them and shouted so it in Sidney’s ears seemed to echo through the entire house. 

“Papa! Papa! Uncle Sidney's here! And he's brought a pretty lady with him!” 

He prayed that Charlotte was visiting Georgiana and had not heard it, when first Mary, then Tom came to greet them. Mrs. Campion proudly informed Mary that Sidney had asked her to stay for the regatta, something which made his sister-in-law thrilled but he flinched inside, knowing it was not true. Tom had asked her, she had willingly taken the bait and he had seen himself forced to say he would appreciate if she came. That was not the same as inviting her.

He suddenly had the feeling of someone observing him and looked up to meet Charlotte’s eyes. It sent a jolt through him. They only had been apart one day, but he felt such immense joy at the sight of her, though blended with the most horrible feeling of betrayal for standing here next to Mrs. Campion. In the candle lit hallway, Charlotte’s eyes were dark, almost black and even if she looked straight at him he could not read her. Was she disappointed, did she silently reprimand him, or did she not care at all? During their first conversation at the balcony she had angered him with her transparency, now he desperately wished for it to return. 

Another night passed when he barely slept. At dawn he gave up and went down to the empty beach for a swim. The crying seagulls above sounded as if mocking him and the water was numbingly cold when he first lowered his lean body into it, but strangely he enjoyed torturing himself physically. As he swam with long, strong strokes, the surrounding water seemed to embrace him, fill the void around his naked limbs and made him feel heated instead, the saltiness of it easily keeping him afloat. 

Afterwards he felt refreshed, his mind suddenly clearer. When he got dressed again, the friction between his damp skin and the clothes made them difficult to put on but finally he managed. He pondered that perhaps it was the same with Mrs. Campion; his body was set on putting up some initial resistance, but it could be overcome. Damnit, he had yearned for her for ten years! He would be a fool if he did not give her a fair chance now, or gave himself a chance to experience happiness, would he not? When he left the beach behind, he was firmly determined to spend time with her this day because he owed them to explore this opportunity to have what they should have had back then. He would for sure regret it for the rest of his life if he did not give this a serious try. 

Sidney was hesitant as to where Charlotte fit into all this. In fact he avoided delving into it because it was slightly painful. His fear of giving up the past made him blind to that she was the sea water in his own allegory; an initial shock alerting all his senses because he was unused to it, then heating him up in a pleasant way, filling the empty space around him, keeping him afloat, staying on his skin even when he tried to leave it behind and making his body reluctant to put on the clothes he had worn before.

-o-

If she were in any doubt regarding her feelings towards Sidney Parker before, the breath-taking punch to her stomach it was to see Mrs. Campion stand beside him in Tom’s and Mary’s hallway told her clear enough. 

Charlotte had come downstairs, drawn there by the merry voices of the children but froze in her step at the sight that met her. He had been to London to fetch his old fiancée. That could only mean one thing; he loved her still and had resumed wooing her. Judging by the contented look on the woman’s face his prospects of succeeding had much improved since the other time. 

She wanted to turn around, sneak away unseen but was unable to move. She felt like a statue with an inside in turmoil. All she could do was observing the quartet, register how painfully confident and possessive Mrs. Campion’s body language was, how welcoming Tom and Mary were to her. She saw no sign that any of them held the slightest grudge towards Mrs. Campion for jilting Sidney and as for him... In that instant he turned his head and their eyes locked. She felt as if he could read her like an open book, but hoped she was wrong so that all her chaotic feelings were not on display. Worse than unrequited love would be him knowing about it, nothing could be more embarrassing than that. 

He only acknowledged her with a brief tight smile, dropped his gaze to almost bashfully look down on his own feet before he returned his attentions to Mrs. Campion.  
Charlotte did not wish to be introduced, not for the world, but nevertheless it hurt that he did not even find her worth introducing to this fine lady. He may not have feelings for her, but she thought they were something. Apparently she had been mistaken about that too. Mercifully, her paralysation was broken when he looked away and she made a silent retreat from a room where no one seemed to miss her. It appeared Tom had been right in his predictions that his younger brother soon was to be engaged.

The day of the regatta offered sunny weather which in no way reflected Charlotte’s melancholic mood. To distract herself she offered to take the children off Mary’s hands and join them to the sand castle competition down on the beach. Jenny had strong opinions on how their castle should be built, and Charlotte and Henry took her directions, Henry with more eagerness than skill and Charlotte absentmindedly unhappy. She had been looking forward to this day so much, now she wondered how to get through it.

When she saw Sidney Parker approach with Mrs. Campion by his side she wished that she could do like that exotic bird she had read about, the ostrich, and put her head in the sand to hide. Instead she remained seated where she was, trying not to breath fast and shallow, busying her hands building the castle so they would not tremble visibly. She hoped they would pass by, but Sidney, who never missed an opportunity to show his niece and nephew affection, stuck his fashionable cane in the sand and playfully lifted Henry high up in the air, making him squeal with laughter. 

“Miss Heywood, what a handsome construction. I assume you and Henry are the architects?”

His tone and words were friendly, yet he seemed distant and avoided looking directly at her. He was more handsome than ever today in black coat and vest, tidy cravat and top hat and Mrs. Campion was a perfect match in a costly dress and neat feather adorned bonnet. Charlotte felt like a silly girl kneeling in the sand with hands buried in it and her lose hair flapping around her face.

“Oh, no. That would be Jenny. I'm merely a labourer.” She was surprised that she managed to sound quite normal.

“Well, it is a fine piece of work.” He chuckled softly, put down Henry again and she thought of how she loved that sound.

“And if this doesn't win, there is no justice, is there, Henry?” he continued. 

He was so lovely with the children, it was one of the first things she had realised that she appreciated about him, playing down by the river. Mrs. Campion did not look very impressed though, more like the children were a nuisance and she thought it better the sooner they continued. Charlotte had the feeling that if she had any children they were safely stowed away with a nanny not to bother her.

“Yes, well done, children!” 

Mrs. Campion’s words rang falsely in Charlotte’s ears and even if she felt childish compared to the more mature woman she resented being diminished by being grouped with the children, adding further distance between her and Mr. Parker. It seemed so obvious in this moment, that he and Mrs. Campion belonged in a world where she did not. He had said he did not feel at home in that fashionable world, but it seemed it only took one look at Her to change his mind, if those words ever had been true in the first place. Perhaps he had only attempted making Charlotte feel better by claiming he felt like an outlier.

“Right.” He cleared his throat, still without looking at her and it suddenly struck her that he was awkward just like her but surely for other reasons. He turned to Mrs. Campion who smiled smugly. “I shall show you Tom's new bathing machine. Good day, Miss Heywood.”

Even bidding her goodbye, he looked at the sand castle rather than at her, brushed away some grains of sand Henry had left on his coat, took his cane, gave a curt nod to the sand castle and walked away. Charlotte watched them leave. Her heart was heavy, but she hoped dearly that Mrs. Campion would make Sidney Parker a happy man this time around, because she had come to think he deserved it more than almost anyone she knew. Even if it made her miserable in the process, she wished him that.

-o-

“At the last regatta I attended, they raced Arab stallions. The one before that featured eight clippers in full sail. But for sheer exhilaration, what could compare to a sandcastle competition?”

It annoyed Sidney that she mocked the arrangements. He had attended events far more spectacular than this, but for Sanditon and his brother this was important. And for Charlotte. He had intended to avoid her as much as possible today to be able to focus on Miss Campion, but it was hard to focus on her when her conversation was so tedious and even more so when he almost stumbled over a kneeling Charlotte, engaged in the sand castle competition Mrs. Campion just had mocked. 

“Well, this is no ordinary sandcastle competition.” He tried to joke away her remark, not to sound to vexed. “Look at this one, for instance. Miss Heywood, what a handsome construction.”

He found it impossible to act natural in the simultaneous presence of Mrs. Campion and Charlotte. His entire body tensed, it was hard breathing, he did not know where to look. He was in flight mode but unable to escape the situation so he simply had to ride it out best he could, and he felt he did not handle it very well. Christ, he had not even introduced Charlotte properly to Mrs. Campion. He did not mean to dismiss her, not at all, but he was afraid that if he spoke to her too much, if he let his eyes rest on her, it would be obvious to Mrs. Campion that she was something more to him than Tom’s guest. If she understood that, his intentions to allow them a fair chance exploring what their relationship was now, would be lost.

Even when he avoided looking straight at Charlotte, it had not escaped him how absolutely lovely she was this day. She had looked ethereal at the ball, still he preferred her like this, with curls moving in the wind, playing with the children without any concern for propriety. The bright blue jacket she wore on top of her thin dress brought out her colours and made her look like she belonged here, one with the sea. He would have loved to remove his own coat and toss away the hat and join them, let his hands touch hers digging in the sand, like they had touched during the dance. Instead he acted like the stiff gentleman Mrs. Campion expected him to be, brushed off the sand Henry had left on him though it did not really bother him and turned away from the playing trio. His thoughts lingered with Charlotte, but he was abruptly brought back to reality by Mrs. Campion. 

“Who did you say that girl was?”

He was immediately alert, heard the streak of suspiciousness in her voice and made sure his own tone was calm and neutral when he responded.  
“ Miss Heywood.” Charlotte. “She's a guest of my brother and Mary's.”

“And she helps with the children?”

“Well among other things, yes.”

She kept him on his toes, challenged him, made him furious, made him laugh, made him want…

“She is rather a sweet little thing”, she said condescendingly rather than complimenting.

He resented the way she belittled Charlotte when he knew she was so much more than sweet. More than Mrs. Campion ever could be. But he held his tongue, knowing nothing good would come out of it if he spoke back in this instant.  
-0-  
She wished something would happen that could take her mind off Sidney Parker and his guest - and then it both did and did not. 

Just as the sand castle competition was wrapping up and Tom prepared himself to hand out the prizes, there was news about the arrival of a prominent guest. A carriage with none other than Lady Worcester had just rolled into town. 

Tom left the beach running, with Mary and a very curious Charlotte in his tracks. 

“My dear, come along! Her every whim must be indulged” Panting he shouted over his shoulder. “If we can secure her patronage, we shall be rendered fashionable at a stroke.”

“Who is this Lady Worcester?” Charlotte queried. 

“My dear, she's quite notorious! London society positively revolves around her. It is a well-known fact that her and the Prince Regent are simpatico.”

Charlotte was intelligent enough to have some understanding of that might imply and her curiosity grew. However, when she saw the familiar face of the woman Tom was welcoming she was in for a surprise.

“My lady! A thousand welcomes! I beg your forgiveness for missing your arrival. Mr Thomas Parker at your service.” 

Overly eager he introduced Mary, boasted about the town and generally made a fuss. 

“As you shall see, we have the finest situation on the south coast. Our seawater and our…”

The lady impatiently interrupted his rambling.

“Oh, shush, never mind all that. If I gave a fig about the sea, I would have gone to Brighton! No, no, no. The reason I came here was to continue my conversation with Charlotte.” 

Lady Worcester looked past the astonished Tom, at Charlotte standing behind him.

Charlotte was amazed. Lady Worcester was none other than Lady Susan she had spoken to at the ball, and she had come all the way to Sanditon to see her.  
“Susan? Very nice to see you.”

Lady Susan ignored all the curious and fussing people around her, took Charlotte under the arm and asked to be taken for a walk. She had found Charlotte’s acquaintance so refreshing at the ball. A totally natural girl, free from pretence and who did not approach her with ulterior motives because of the advantage it may be to know someone who was connected with the Prince Regent. She had also been intrigued by her story and the very handsome young man who had asked her to dance. The looks they had exchanged had left her in no doubt about their mutual feelings, but later she had seen him talking to Mrs. Campion with Charlotte out of the picture and thus had made some enquiries. She had not liked what she learned. She simply had had to come here and talk to Charlotte to hear how things were developing and to silence her own curiosity. 

As they strolled, Charlotte began telling her of the ongoing intrigues in the little sea town, starting with Lady Denham being on her deathbed and her presumed heirs watching like vultures over her. 

“How thrilling! But more importantly than any of that, does a certain person know yet that you are in love with him?”

“I fear you're mistaken, my lady. I was not... I an not...”

“I am never wrong when it comes to matters of the heart.”

Charlotte swallowed. Perhaps there was no use denying what she now also knew was the truth. Susan had been right all along.

“Even if it were true, he is spoken for”, she said sadly.

“Oh, yes, I know all about Mrs C. She must be the wealthiest widow in the country, not to mention the most elegant. I can see why you'd find her a dispiriting rival.” 

Charlotte felt like crying upon hearing Mrs. Campion described like that. If someone like Lady Susan thought her rival so rich and elegant, it was not only Charlotte’s own inexperienced eye that found her so. That made it even more daunting to imagine competing with her, not that Charlotte had any intention to.

“But she will have a chink in her armour. We just need to find it.” Susan continued encouragingly and squeezed Charlotte’s arm to give her strength. 

Having Susan there did not exactly help Charlotte to ban Sidney from her thoughts, but she felt so much better for having a friend present to support her. Perhaps she would survive this day after all.

-o-

“You seem a different man”, Tom said to Sidney. 

The three Parker brothers stood together on the river bank, and Sidney had just thought how nice it was to be gathered, he had missed so many years of this companionship with his brothers. He had hardly known Arthur growing up. He did feel a different man today, but not in a good way like Tom seemed to think. He felt confused, like he was running around in a maze without knowing which direction to chose to find his way out. One that looked so promising could just as well be a dead end. Tom displayed his usual lack of talent in reading other’s feelings. He was in a terrific mood after Lady Worcester’s arrival and so assumed everyone else to be too.

“And there is no doubting the cause; the lovely Mrs Campion. Although I doubt she will remain Mrs Campion for long if you have your way.”

Sidney’s breath hitched. Did people already take it for granted? That he would engage himself to Eliza Campion? The thought did not stir any joy inside him.

“Steady on, Tom. There's no need to rush things”, he said flatly.

“And why not? She is beautiful, witty and rich and you have loved her for a decade. Why would there be the slightest doubt in your mind?”

Had he loved her for a decade? Or had he loved her a decade ago and only thought he continued to do so? 

“You know, it is a strange feeling”, he answered thoughtfully. “When you've been wanting something impossible for so long, and suddenly it's within your grasp.”

“Do you know, for years, all I knew about my brother Sidney was that he was driven to the West Indies with a broken heart”, Arthur chipped in much to Sidney’s surprise. It was quite seldom his little brother reflected upon anything besides ailments, food and drink.

“Then what's your point, Arthur?” he asked with curiosity.

“I admire your spirit of forgiveness. That is all. If it were me, I do not think I could bring myself to trust her again.”

Struck with dismay Sidney stared at his brother. When Arthur for once made an intelligent remark, he had put words to the uncanny thoughts that had nagged Sidney ever since he saw Mrs. Campion again but had refused to acknowledge up to now. 

Could he forgive her? And even if he did, could he trust her? Was it so that he was making a gigantic mistake? 

Perhaps he did not owe her anything. Perhaps he would not be a fool for not giving her, them, a second chance. Perhaps he sooner was a fool for not immediately realising that opportunity was lost long ago. Perhaps he was well on his way to let another chance of love pass him by in the present because he was blinded by the past.


	13. Not the same man, not the same river

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sidney doubts he is able to dive into the same river twice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Life kept me from updating for longer than I had intended, but I have next chapter almost complete too.  
For technical annoying reasons I have not been able to watch episode 7 for some time so have written this with the help of YouTube videos and memory. I might edit at some point when I re-watch if I find I have missed something essential, but I have already spent way too much time thinking about this. This chapter does not sit 100% with me but I have changed and added for so long that I simply publish now.
> 
> Even if I write for no better reason than that I cannot stop myself, I love feedback and I am always grateful when you let me know what you think, so thanks much you for the reviews given to previous chapters!
> 
> If you are not on Twitter yet, please join the Sanditonsisterhood and fun conversation there to fight for a Sanditon Season 2 - lol. I go under MissPiony on Twitter too.

“Miss Heywood. I wondered whether I might persuade you to take a walk with me. Unless, now is not a...?”

James Stringer interrupted himself. There was nothing he wanted more than to be with Miss Heywood, but only if she wanted it too. To his relief she seemed pleased by his request and bestowed him a sweet smile. She was always so kind to him, but then again she was to everyone and he wondered if her actions possibly could have any deeper meaning. He hoped so with all his heart.

“Oh, no, now is the perfect time. I need to make sure everything stands ready at the starting line. Perhaps you could accompany me?” she suggested.  
They wandered across the meadow. It was peaceful here, away from the crowd, but Charlotte’s did not find peace. James noticed that even if she seemed glad to be in his company she was also a bit absent-minded, as if contemplating something. 

Charlotte’s thoughts were indeed elsewhere, more specifically with Mr. Parker and Mrs. Campion, anxiously wondering how the two were amusing themselves right now. Were they perhaps stealing kisses behind a tree trunk, or even worse, getting engaged again? Both scenarios made her insides twist. She felt like she in Stringer had another friend in addition to Lady Susan this day, but of course she could not talk to him about her inconvenient feelings for Sidney Parker. For a while she enjoyed the companionable silence but was not truly present.

“Looks as though the regatta will be a success, Miss, and that is in large part down to you”, Stringer now tried to get her full attention. Startled she snapped back to him, feeling slightly guilty. She hoped he had not noticed her lack of attention. 

“In truth, I have been grateful for the distraction”, she sighed.

“Distraction from what?”

From Sidney Parker transforming from the rudest, most infuriating man into the most desirable one, alas already spoken for.

“My own thoughts, I suppose.”

“What kind of thoughts?”

She looked away, let her hand glide over the tops of the high blades of grass along their path and they tickled her palm. 

“It's difficult to say.”

“Perhaps you might find me a more sympathetic listener than you might imagine. It could be that we share the same thoughts.”

Thinking about a tall handsome man named Sidney Parker? Wondering what the way Mr. Parker sometimes looked at her meant? Asking how he could dance with her like there was no one else in the room, then leave her and act like he forgot she even existed? Dwell upon how Mr. Parker could ask permission to wait for her and accompany her from Georgiana whilst smiling and joking so it felt intimate, only to bring his old fiancée here the following day and almost ignore Charlotte in her presence? Obsessing over if all this was love and if so, was it supposed to hurt this much? She seriously doubted that James Stringer and she shared the same thoughts.

“I doubt it. You are far too sensible to form such a misguided and futile attachment.”

“Why should it be futile, Miss Heywood? For all you know, your feelings are repaid five times over”, he said eagerly.

She had thought so during the dance, until Tom abruptly pulled her head back down from the clouds.

“I allowed myself to believe so for the briefest of moments, but I cannot deny the evidence of my own eyes.” She blinked to get rid of some excess fluid suddenly glazing her eyes and shrugged her shoulders. “No matter. There is nothing to be done. You were right, Mr Stringer. You are a sympathetic listener indeed.”

Charlotte did not notice how Stringer’s eyes turned dark, how the muscle at his jaw twitched or how he clenched his fists. He understood in this moment that she was not talking about him but another man. She so lacked vanity that it did not cross her mind that he might have feelings for her, and as a friend she shared her trouble over someone else. Someone who apparently was a fool for not appreciating what was offered to him. 

They had reached the part of the river bank where the finishing line was to be. He had intended to help her, but found he was too disappointed and upset to put a lid on his feelings for much longer and decided it was for the better to leave. Charlotte simply gave him a warm smile as he bid her goodbye saying he had better return to his fellows. She thanked him for walking her there but did not miss him much when he left. She who usually was an attentive observer, was too preoccupied this day to see the signs of barely contained hurt and frustration, or unrequited love.

-o-

In contrast to what Charlotte believed, Sidney was not amusing himself. He tried to be attentive to Mrs. Campion, tried to enjoy her company, but found that he could not. Arthur’s words echoed in his mind. ‘I admire your spirit of forgiveness. That is all. If it were me, I do not think I could bring myself to trust her again.’ It was like those words had created small cracks in the dam which for long had existed within Sidney, the wall so efficiently holding his feelings in check. Now, everything he had strived to repress began seeping out like persistent droplets of water finding their way through. As the day went on and Mrs. Campion made one silly or snide remark after another, the cracks widened, and the emotional droplets turned into a rivulet flowing at a steady pace. He needed time alone, needed to think and allow himself to feel what he really wanted. 

By the time luncheon was served he found the perfect excuse to leave Mrs. Campion. He had already told her he needed to revive his slumbering rowing skills before the start of the gentlemen’s boat race, and she had made it abundantly clear she did not wish to join him in a boat which she feared might tip over.

As he walked towards the river he thought to himself that rowing was not the only skill he needed to revive, he was not sure he knew how to love a woman again. Would he remember how to do either? 

Then he saw her, Charlotte, and his heart made the same little somersault it had ever since the night in the carriage, or perhaps even before that. She had not yet seen him and for a moment he observed her unnoticed, enjoying the view more than he should. She was alone, in the shadow of the makeshift pavilion set up for the occasion, busy with the last preparations. Her blue jacket had been discarded in the sunny weather and she looked adorable in a white, thin muslin dress. Just like during the cricket match, he allowed himself to secretly admire her shape underneath the layers of fabric and it hit him once again how naturally beautiful she was.  
The cracks grew wider within Sidney, the emotional rivulet now turning into a swirling stream. 

He was touched by how engaged she was in making the regatta a success for the sake of Sanditon’ s and Tom’s prosperity. Indeed she had done more than anyone both in terms of the initial brilliant idea, the preparations and by tempting Lady Worcester to come here. Incredibly enough, he had not recognised the notorious and admired lady when he saw her in London, but his attention had been on Charlotte not on any other woman then. Until he saw Mrs. Campion, he reminded himself. Yet it was her he needed distance from now, meanwhile seeing Charlotte made him feel lighter at heart despite that he had come here to be alone. Instead of wishing he had found the place empty, he wished he could spend more of the day with her. 

What would have happened if he had not stumbled upon Mrs. Campion that evening? He wondered but would never now. Now she was here, but so was Charlotte.  
She looked up when he approached her and gave him a hesitant, lovely smile. He wondered if she had any idea what effect it had on him, the butterflies she stirred in his stomach, but he thought not. She was not one to consciously flirt. Charlotte smiled at someone because she was kind, because she liked them, found something amusing or sometimes because she wanted to comfort or encourage them, but never to lead anyone on. It was one of the things he liked about her, that she was genuine. True to herself. Was he? He was not sure where the thought came from and he pushed it to the back of his head.

“Well, what do you think, Miss Heywood? Do I look ready to you?” he said with nonchalance he did not feel.

“I am no expert”, she answered a bit guarded.

He noticed it and wished she would not feel like that, but it was not surprising after his failure at the beach before. Thinking about how he had been remiss in introducing her properly to Mrs. Campion and acknowledge her as someone he valued, he felt ashamed, but Sidney was used to masking his feelings and Charlotte noticed nothing.

“Neither am I, regrettably. I haven't picked up an oar in years.” Saying that, he picked one up and eyed it, then brought it over to one of the boats lying ready for the race.

“I'm sure it'll all come back to you.” 

“I wonder.”

He liked how she tried to encourage him, but suddenly he was not so sure he was talking about the oars and rowing anymore. His mind returned to if he was suited for being involved romantically with any woman and Mrs. Campion in particular. His feelings were not the same as they had been back then, because he was a different man and she a different woman. Could that be for the better? Could they find their way back to each other as adults with a past? The more time he spent with her, the less certain about it he felt. Spending time with Charlotte was such a welcome break.

"A man cannot step into the same river twice”, he added as he placed an oar in the rowlock, initially talking to himself but then turned to Charlotte. “Have you ever heard that?” 

He was prepared to explain what it meant but once again he had underestimated her.

“For he is not the same man and it is not the same river. It's Heraclitus”, she told him softly. Just like that, neither boasting nor hiding her knowledge like many young ladies might because intelligence when encountered in a woman was not considered a virtue by all.

“Yes. Of course you'd know that.” 

A smile played on his lips. Would she ever cease to amaze him? Not only did she know of Greek philosophers, as soon as she said it he knew she understood the full meaning of the quote as well and was not only repeating words. 

He knew in this instant that he very much wanted her to join him. He had no wish to get away from her, leave her behind on the riverbank. He reached out his hand for her to take.

“Well, I need a second person to balance the boat, would you mind? he said with the same feigned casualness as before but looked away, afraid to expose his staggering need to be in her presence.

“I'm not sure if I…”

He herd the insecurity in her voice and had to turn to her, to convince her. Out of fear he might sound like a needy beggar, he made his words come out like a command but smiled to take away the edge from them.

“Come on.” 

She still hesitated, then put one hand in the hand he offered, placed the other on his shoulder, causing an almost burning sensation on his skin where they touched, and jumped into the boat so swiftly that he was not entirely prepared for it. Their bodies collided for the briefest of moments and he felt the whiff from her familiar jasmine perfume, the one he had found tantalizing already at the first ball in the early days of their acquaintance when he still mistook her for a frivolous, irrelevant girl. By instinct he held on to her hand a little longer than was needed, even placed his other hand on top so hers was gently trapped between his. He told himself he wanted to stabilise her after the jump, but in fact it was himself he needed to keep steady in her proximity and he relished the body contact too much to let go immediately. This was the first time he held her hand without the barrier of a glove. A small, warm hand easily wrapped by his larger ones and the sensation was more exhilarating than the full length of any naked woman ever had been. A buzzing sensation spread with the speed of lightning from their touching fingers throughout his entire body. His demeanour was calm, his insides everything but. 

“Careful.” 

He was not sure if he said it to her or himself. He wanted to keep her safe, that much was true, but he was also rattled by what she was doing to him. He was in deep waters here in more ways than one. “Sit down behind here.”

He placed her so they were positioned face to face, took up the oars, pushed away from the riverbank and set the boat in motion. 

It took him some time to find a rhythm but soon the boat glided over the water. In her company he did remember how to row it seemed. It was nearly quiet, the only sound heard was the chirping birds and oars breaking the water surface. All would have been peaceful had not his mind been in a turmoil. He wanted to look at her so badly but found it too intense to meet her gaze without pause. Every now and then he looked out over the water, or down on his moving hands, but was compelled to turn back to her again and again, noticing she did the same. Every time their eyes met anew his breath hitched. 

After a while he impulsively broke the silence, unable to resist sharing his thoughts though unsure what possessed him to do so with her of all people. He simply felt he had to release the pressure inside.

“May I ask you something, Miss Heywood?” he asked. He appreciated how she by just looking at him let him know he had her full attention, no words needed. “Why is it, when I finally have a chance of happiness I cannot accept the fact?”

“What is it you cannot accept?” she asked, looking slightly confused.

It was a good question which he was not entirely sure he could answer.

Pull. Moving away from her, then leaning forward again, closer.

His moves were fluent, strong yet almost distractedly gentle. He was more focused on trying to savour this serene moment with her than achieving speed, despite the built-up frustration inside him.

“I had convinced myself that I was destined to remain alone, that I was ill-suited for matrimony.”

For so long he had identified himself as the outlier she rightfully had accused him of being. If he was not, who was he? Who did he want to be? Who did he want to be with? 

She frowned in the way he had learned was not a sign of her being vexed, just thoughtful, deliberating carefully what to answer. Once he had thought all her opinions to be formed on a whim, now he knew she analysed everything, only quicker than most people with an eye for details and strong instinct for what lay beneath the surface. Her analyses were not infallible, but accurate more often than he first had given her credit for. Sometimes painfully accurate, opening his eyes, making him want to change. Into what?

“I don't believe that anybody is truly unsuited to marriage.” She paused. “Not even you.”

This made him chuckle, Charlotte would never fail to be honest. Her answer was slightly insulting yet comforting.

“I suppose it's just a question of compatibility?” she added, taking a deep breath as if she was afraid she once again had been too free with her opinion and offended him, but he had sought for it and welcomed it. 

He realised that she did not fully understand how much he had come to value her opinion. It was surprising to him too but apparently there was no one else he would rather turn to in confusing matters like this. Not his brothers or Diana, not Mary, certainly not Babbers or Crowe. Not Mrs. Campion.

“Yes. I suppose you're right.” 

Their eyes locked and something clicked into place inside him. He felt her words land there and comfort him in the strangest way. It was not written in the stars that he could not find happiness, it just had to be with the right person. ‘It is just a question of compatibility.’

Who was he compatible with then? What did it mean that Mrs. Campion never even would consider joining him in a rocky boat, whilst Charlotte after only a brief hesitation did? What did it mean that he wanted Charlotte with him here more than anyone? He knew in this moment that even if Mrs. Campion had changed her mind, he preferred to have Charlotte here right now.

“Now it's your turn. Give me your hands.” 

Again she hesitated but did as he asked. He placed her hands on the oars and covered them with his. Perhaps it was not necessary, but he did it anyway because he could not resist the urge to touch those enticing fingers again. She did not seem offended. Her expression was slightly quizzical mixed with trusting when they began moving the oars in circles, leaning back and forth in sync.

“Lower your hands. Good. That's it. Here”, he instructed and encouraged her.

“Keep your back straight.” 

He let go of one oar and without thinking pressed his hand briefly against her waist, intended to correct her position but resulting almost in a caress. He could feel how delicate her body was beneath his palm. She straightened immediately, but not flinching, instead almost instinctively sinking into it. He let go, because propriety demanded it, not because he wanted to. As if the hand protested against the departure from her body it, almost without his permission, cheekily brushed against her thigh and her knee lightly before returning to cover her hand again. Her response was a bewildered smile and he felt himself split up in a relaxed, happy grin. 

His hands stayed on hers even when she had found the rhythm. Together they moved the oars, moved their bodies in tune. The easiness between them stayed but was accompanied by a building tension. Shadowing each other was strangely sensual. It amazed him how something innocent done in broad daylight turned into something almost erotic. Smoothly moving back and forth with eyes locked, his hands still enclosing hers on the oars. Her chest heaved slightly from the exertion and it was impossible not to notice the perfect roundness of her bosom, her shallower breaths, her flushing cheeks. Moving in perfect synchronicity, so close to one another, it was all too easy to visualise what it would be like to have her under him, freed of clothes, wrapping her arms and legs around him as he buried himself inside her. His mind strayed there and there was no turning back. He felt his own smile fade away, as did hers and he had the feeling something momentous was happening. The fact that someone so sweet, someone he was so at ease with, suddenly stirred the strongest desire in him, caused Sidney to feel utterly confused and totally mesmerised. He forgot time and place, there was only Charlotte’s beautiful face, her hazel eyes now firmly locked in his and her body inches away. He noticed how her soft, pink lips were slightly parted and with sudden clarity realised he wanted to close the gap between them, pull her into his lap, hold around that delicate waist and place his lips to hers. He needed it more than anything in this moment, he had to…

“Sidney!”

Dazed he became aware of the surroundings outside the bubble they had been in and saw Mrs. Campion on the river bank. A flash of panic shot up inside of him. What was he thinking?! He had nearly kissed Charlotte, but Mrs. Campion was here… people expected things… were already talking… even Tom assumed… and Charlotte, what would she think of him if he had? What was he doing here in this boat with Charlotte, imagining things which would have ruined her reputation if he had indeed done them and anyone had seen? Mrs. Campion had saved them both, yet he desperately wished her to be elsewhere.

Abruptly he got to his feet, so the boat rocked, and waved awkwardly to Mrs. Campion, feeling like a buffoon. For heaven’s sake, could someone be kind enough to end his misery and help him out of here? Sidney felt like the dream state he had been in moments ago had turned into a living nightmare.


	14. What is it that you want from me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sidney behaves very badly indeed and Charlotte is hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: A heartfelt thank you to all who read my scribbles and so kindly encourage me to continue. 
> 
> Curious to know what you think of my interpretation of Sidney’s thoughts underlying his actions in this one.

She could almost not hear anything above the sound of her own blood gushing, hear heart resounding inside of her like a drum. How could he? The day had just turned from confounding into unbearable.

-o-

Earlier this afternoon Mr. Parker had surprised her, joining her by the river. He appeared to be all by himself and Charlotte wondered where Mrs. Campion was. Initially she felt a bit shy as a consequence of his reserved behaviour during the sand castle competition and perhaps also because she found him more dashing than ever. He seemed quite relaxed now though, as he wriggled off his top coat before picking up an oar and sauntered towards the boats. How she liked him like this, when he was not so formal. Clad in white shirt, waistcoat and breeches he looked stylish but more approachable, younger, less contained than in hat, top coat and cane. More like someone she could have run into in the fields of Willingden, but then again no. She had never met anyone like Sidney Parker anywhere.

She felt a new kind of nervous insecurity in his company and this made her do as he asked when he smilingly commanded her to enter the boat, instead of stubbornly refuse like she would have in the past if he spoke to her like that. It was so strange; she felt completely safe with him, simultaneously intimidated and exposed. Like when he held her to stabilise her in the jump, captured her hand and squeezed it reassuringly after she had landed in the boat. It defeated the purpose because it made her week at the knees, so she hastily had to sit down as soon as he let go. The butterflies in her stomach stayed.

Even if he seemed to sincerely wish for her to join him, she was a bit out of her comfort zone to begin with, guarded because she feared her feelings for him might shine through. She wanted to be here, with him, so very much but could not figure out why he was here. He had come to practise for the race, not to see her, but he had asked her to join him. Insisted upon it even. Was it really only to balance the boat? She could see that something bothered him, but it could hardly be the same thoughts that troubled her. The events that came to pass next, she comprehended even less. 

They had floated peacefully along the river, but her insides were in a turmoil during and after. She secretly enjoyed watching him manage the oars. She knew all too well from the encounter by the coves, that his upper body was disturbingly well-built and his arms very muscular, and now he moved without effort. Many gentlemen were weak or chubby because they did not use their bodies for manual labour, but not Sidney Parker and Georgiana had gossiped he stayed fit by participating in boxing matches, probably illegal ones. Charlotte found that both appalling and thrilling. It was not difficult to imagine even if he was sitting here so peacefully now, because there was a strong agility to him, and she had seen him fight when they were on the rescue mission for Georgiana; furiously knocking down the driver of the kidnapper’s carriage and rescuing herself from being assaulted using his bare fists. She had not been grateful at the time but looking back her feelings were changed. 

She was distracted admiring his long fingers grasping around the oars, so she was slightly taken aback when he unexpectedly opened up to her, sharing his predicament. He started the conversation so grave but after a while, smiled wider and more genuinely than ever before, so it warmed her through and through. He made her feel like he in truth wanted to be with her and nowhere else. It did not even bother her when he asked for advice about happiness and marriage realising his mind must be set on Mrs. Campion, because it still felt like they shared a moment of trust. 

Then, the way he had touched her; held her hands again, put his palm against her side in the most enthralling way, enticingly brushed her leg. Only light, innocent touches but because it was him, it made her entire body flush, her heart beat frantically, and her breath catch in her throat. His smile gradually vanished, his face shifted to serious but far from unfriendly and there was an almost palpable tension building between them. His brown eyes, now fixed on her, turned so dark and intense that it made her tremble inside. When he looked at her like that, she felt things, new strong emotions, which she did not fully understand but nevertheless welcomed. 

For a moment she had thought he intended to kiss her. It felt like he was about to raise from his seat and close the small gap between them. She had wanted it, her body almost prepared to mould itself into him even if she knew nothing of such things. Her physical reactions this afternoon had not been fitting at all for a young unmarried lady. She should not feel like this for him, with him, but her emotions had been an overwhelming pandemonium, a maelstrom pulling her with it, and she had not wanted to resist. If he beckoned her, she was ready to come. But he did not.

Instead Mrs. Campion appeared and the spell that Charlotte had been under was abruptly broken. By the way he reacted, immediately breaking away, she realised that their special moment was a figment of her imagination. There was no attraction for his part, he belonged with another and she was a fool for thinking anything else. 

As soon as Mrs. Campion called, Sidney had brought them back to the riverbank, leaped out of the boat with impressive speed and nearly forgotten to help Charlotte out of it. He seemed distressed and eager to get away from her now that he had been reminded of his commitments to the other lady. 

Mrs. Campion had observed them with grave face and narrowed eyes and Charlotte had the uncanny feeling she could read her mind. How ridiculous she must find her thoughts if she could; a countryside girl pining for the man she, the wealthiest widow in England, had her eyes on, perhaps was engaged to already. Charlotte blushed under the scrutiny, excused herself and hastily returned to her preparations by the tent. Mr. Parker left in Mrs. Campion’s company almost without saying goodbye or thanking her for balancing the boat. Part of her wished she had never joined him in that boat so the abrupt dismissal would not be so hurtful, but part of her would not have wanted to miss it for the world. Even if she was a delusional fool, she knew she counted that moment alone with Sidney Parker among the most precious ones in her life so far.

With the couple gone, she had tried and failed to understand why he sought her company in the first place if he was to turn his back on her the minute Mrs. Campion re-appeared. Here she was, with even stronger feelings for Sidney Parker than before and once again he had run away when Mrs. Campion summoned him. Charlotte’s imagination had run wild and she cursed herself for that, for allowing herself to nurture a grain of hope only to be so bitterly disappointed. Was he toying with her, she wondered, or did he not even realise what effect he had on her? She thought him a good man, so the sensible part of her said he meant no harm, but her heart ached nevertheless. He would surely not lead her on intentionally only to cruelly drop her, but that certainty only slightly diminished the pain.

It hurt because she was a passionate woman who could not simply shut off her feelings at this point. Just as she always had known she was unable to marry without love, she now discovered that she was incapable of stopping herself from loving once the feelings had begun to blossom, even if there was no prospect of a marriage. 

A heated shiver went through her when her body remembered the feel of his hand against her midriff. Oh, to have his hands grazing over her body and have them buried in her hair. To feel his lips. She gasped, almost like a sob and was grateful no one was around to hear or see her in this state. She did not want to imagine those things but she could not help herself even if it only worsened the pain of losing something that never was hers in the first place.

When she finally regained her composure, she returned to the large tents where a sumptuous luncheon was being served and was very relieved when Lady Susan immediately came to meet her, determined to take her under her wings. It was a welcome distraction when she introduced Charlotte to several prominent people, as if she was a dear old friend. Lady Susan’s personality was indeed such that it felt like they had been friends forever. It was obvious that many of the spectators had come to Sanditon on her invite. 

“You have made the day a success. I hardly know how to thank you”, Charlotte said.

“You have no need to thank me. I came here to enjoy your company.”

Charlotte was grateful that at least someone enjoyed her company. Lady Susan served herself some cake from the buffet, but Charlotte had no appetite.

“Look who's coming our way.” Susan giggled naughtily when she saw Mrs. Campion with Sidney Parker in tow. “I think we can safely say we have found Mrs Campion's Achilles heel.”

“What is it?” Charlotte asked curiously.

“You”, Susan mused as Mrs. Campion steered towards them. Susan was convinced that her aim was to keep a close eye on the competition and by that not eluding to the boat race. 

“May we join you?” Mrs. Campion demanded sooner than asked, in a meddlesome manner. 

Charlotte noticed that Susan barely could refrain from rolling her eyes, but in the end just nodded politely. 

“What is the topic of discussion?” the ignorant Mrs. Campion asked.

“Miss Heywood and I were just discussing marriage.” 

Charlotte wondered why she would say that, when they had discussed nothing of the sort. Susan turned to Sidney.

“What is your opinion of marriage, Mr Parker?”

Charlotte’s gaze shifted to him, but he was back to avoiding looking at her just like at the beach. She noticed that his body language strangely reminded of an earthworm squirming on a fishing hook and thought it must be embarrassing for him to be asked that question if he planned to propose in the imminent future. The thought stung I her. 

“I cannot speak of it with any authority, I'm afraid.”, was all he said, with a tight smile and continued to avert his gaze. Charlotte was grateful that at least she did not have to witness a look of adoration directed to Mrs. Campion or hear him say that matrimony was a blessing he hoped to experience soon.

“What about you, Miss Heywood? You're of marrying age. It must be much on your mind”, Mrs. Campion chipped in, widening her bright blue eyes innocently but Charlotte saw the steely look in their depth.

“There seems little point considering marriage until you've found someone you'd wish to marry”, she responded with a sweet smile but feeling defiant. The other woman was the last person she wished to share her thoughts with and neither with Mr. Parker as things were.

“There must be a boy in your village that's caught your eye?”

Susan had her eyes on Sidney, and it did not escape her how uncomfortable he looked, yet like he was all ears to hear Charlotte’s answer. She knew she was never wrong when it came to matters of the heart and she was certain that Mr. Sidney Parker’s heart belonged to Charlotte even if he had not realised it himself.

“And why should Charlotte be limited to her village?” she challenged.

Charlotte wanted to sink through the ground. No boy in Willingden had ever made her feel like the man before her did. She was grateful that Susan came to her aid because she would not have known what to say.

“I always think it helps to share a common background, that's all. Miss Heywood is hardly likely to find a kindred spirit in this company”, Mrs. Campion answered with feigned concern, followed by a chuckle. The perceptive Susan detected a hint of malice, but also insecurity. 

“And why not?” 

“I just imagine she must find all our London talk unspeakably tedious. Wouldn't you agree, Sidney?” 

A woman who had to tell a man that he rather belonged with her than another, was a woman suspicious that her feelings were not reciprocated. She was marking her territory, intimately calling him by his Christian name and requesting him to share her opinion. Susan saw the signs of the growing rift between them but knew that her dear friend probably was too inexperienced to understand the true nature of things. Her heart went out to her, but she could not comfort her right in this moment.

During the brief silence that followed Mrs. Campion’ question, Charlotte held her breath, hoping that Sidney would join forces with Susan and tell Mrs. Campion that he for one appreciated Charlotte’s company and would not be surprised if she found love outside of Willingden. For a split second their eyes met when he glanced at her, but then he looked down almost bashfully and answered.

“I have no doubt that Charlotte would rather be sat somewhere quietly reading Heraclitus.” A small laugh which sounded false to her ears escaped him.

Those words hurt like a whiplash. How could he sink so low just to appease Mrs. Campion? Not only did he choose not to come to Charlotte’s defence, he turned the previous sincere and beautiful conversation between them into something ugly, a hurtful joke diminishing her.

Mrs. Campion jeered, gleeful in what she perceived as a victory.

“Sidney, you are wicked! That will certainly not help her find a husband.”

Charlotte felt like the was in a game of chess she had not asked to be part of, with the King and Queen joined in front of her and she a pawn who could easily be expended without any concern for her feelings. She was not sure how she did it, but she managed to keep appearances up just long enough to retort with dignity.

”You are quite right, Mrs Campion. I'm a farmer's daughter who reads books. What could I possibly have in common with anyone here? Excuse me.”

She sent Sidney a reproachful glance, then fled, hoping no one but Susan realised how upset she was and why. She did not know where to escape. Soon Tom would expect her assistance so she could not run home to her room and hide like she wanted. Instead she stopped in a somewhat secluded corner and tried to retreat within herself. She could almost not hear anything above the sound of her own blood gushing, hear heart resounding inside of her like a drum. How could he? The day had just turned from confounding into unbearable.

Mrs. Campion had been mean, but Charlotte could usually handle such talk and bite back, like when Lady Denham had pried into her own and Georgiana’s plans to marry. What upset and wounded her were her own feelings for Sidney combined with that he so willingly played along with Mrs. Campion. Before, down by the river she had the feeling they shared something special, something precious. Even if nothing more was to come out of it, she had never expected him to turn their togetherness into a joke which ridiculed her. 

His words hurt her so much more than Mrs. Campion ever could because she expected more from him and because his good opinion of her had come to mean the world. She had been mistaken. A good man would not be spiteful towards a… a friend?... like this, but perhaps he did not regard her a friend even if he had come to her for advice. His behaviour made it clear that she was nothing to him, at least nothing he valued. The realisation made her feel choked, made tears prick at the back of her eyelids threatening to burst out any second. She had to hold them back, could not be seen crying in public and start the gossip mill. How pathetic everyone would think her if they realised she had feelings for Sidney Parker. She tried to calm down by wrapping her arms around herself and control her breaths but now a heavy teardrop rolled down her cheek. No one had ever hurt her this way. She had foolishly given her heart to the wrong man, but there had been no active choice involved. Susan was right, love was truly an affliction and the worst kind.

-o-

The temporary calm Sidney had found in Charlotte’s company during the boat ride vanished the moment Mrs. Campion called out his name. He found himself torn between what he wanted to do and what everyone including himself expected him to do. When he left by Mrs. Campion’s side, all he wanted was to run back to Charlotte, but something held him back. It would have caused an awkward scene and he was not even sure what he would say or how Charlotte would react. All he knew was that he did not like leaving her behind. Having the two women near each other left him so confused. One was his past, but was she also his future? What about Charlotte then, what he had felt for her, wanted to do with her just now? Was he simply caught up in the moment? Something told him it was not so. He felt there was a deeper connection causing lust to flash up in him rather than sudden desire leading him to believe there was more to their relationship then it was, but he could not be sure. Not of his own feelings and certainly not of Charlotte’s.

His doubts increased by the minute, leaving him in a foul mood and to make bad things worse Mrs. Campion pulled him into a conversation with Charlotte and Lady Worcester, one which he did not want to be part of. He did not want to share his thoughts on marriage, did not want to hear about Charlotte’s. Well, not like this anyway. The conversation in the boat had been something different.

Sidney still did not fully admit it to himself, but truth was he did not want her to be fond of any other man than him and did not wish to hear her thoughts on marrying… someone else.

When Mrs. Campion asked Charlotte about a boy in her village, an intense feeling of uneasiness inhabited him, but he failed to recognise it as jealousy. Just to imagine her with another made him want to punch something hard or wrap her in his arms and shield her from the world, but this desire was not something he was able to put words to in his mind, it merely expressed itself as a wave of disturbing emotions. It was a relief when she maintained her previous position, that she had not yet found anyone she wished to marry, but Mrs. Campion would not leave it at that. He could not understand why the woman was so overly interested in Charlotte’s love life. It had nothing to do with her for all she knew. 

When Mrs. Campion forced him to join the conversation, asked him if he did not agree that Charlotte must find their London talk tedious, he had not intended for his answer to come out like it did. He was frustrated with her for pursuing the topic in the way she did and felt cornered into saying something. It was near impossible to find an answer that would please both women and because of that, words which in his mind were a compliment to Charlotte, were twisted into an insult when spoken out loud. 

“I have no doubt that Charlotte would rather be sat somewhere quietly reading Heraclitus.”

He intended to give a secret nod to their conversation earlier, but as soon as the words left his lips he heard how wrong they were, sounding nothing but mocking.

Sidney did agree that she probably found the London talk tedious, but so did he. The more time he spent with Charlotte here in Sanditon, the less he wished to return to that superficial life and Mrs. Campion’s presence only emphasized that. 

He did not doubt that Charlotte rather would be seated somewhere quiet reading Heraclitus, but he admired that and would want to sit next to her. He would be perfectly content watching her read, if he could talk to her every now and then and hear her thoughts on what she had read, was allowed to hold her hand and perhaps steal a kiss. He would gladly spend his life like that, instead of going back to London and listen to Mrs. Campion talk about balls and dresses and gossip about people who meant nothing to him. 

All that, was hidden behind the actual spoken words but he could not right his wrong by admitting that. All Sidney managed in his cornered state was a jest at her expense.

Her words in response hit him like a punch in the stomach. ‘I'm a farmer's daughter who reads books. What could I possibly have in common with anyone here?’ At the London ball he had told her she was more than equal to any woman in the room and he thought it truer now than ever, acting so dignified despite the undeserved ridicule. When she swept away it only took him a few seconds to realise he had to follow her, or he would not be able to look himself in the mirror. She was hurt and angry, he knew her well enough to know that and he could not stand the thought. He hated that he had partaken in causing her to feel that way.

“Excuse me”, he echoed Charlotte and moved to follow her.

“Sidney? Where are you going?” Mrs. Campion inquired with alarm. She put her hand on his arm. He flinched and pulled away.

“This jest went too far, I have to apologise”, he answered brusquely, though angrier with himself than with her. 

“Surely there is no need?”

He noticed Mrs. Campion’s annoyed expression but found he did not care. She had just proven to be an even a lesser person than he thought her before, by being mean to a girl of inferior position than herself. He regretted badly that he had allowed himself to be drawn into it just because he could not decide which foot to stand on. He could perhaps forgive Mrs. Campion for the past, but he could forgive neither her nor himself for turning him into someone who would do such a thing to Charlotte. It was coward and that was not the man he wanted to be. Charlotte deserved so much better and he had to make amends.

He feared he would not find her, but she had not gone far and soon he caught up with her. To his dismay the composed outside she had maintained in front of them had started to crumble and he realised he had hurt her even deeper than he first thought. Her arms were protectively wrapped around her own thin frame and her heavy breathing disclosed how upset she really was. When he called her name and she looked up, he caught her wiping away a tear. It was unbearable. The last thing he wanted was to make Charlotte Heywood cry, yet he had. 

“Miss Heywood.”

“Would you excuse me? The race is about to start.”

She turned her back on him and strode away. He had upset her to the extent that she would not even talk to him. It had happened before, when he interfered between Georgiana and Otis, but this was entirely different. This time is was a matter of him and her only. He easily caught up with her with his longer strides and took hold of her elbow.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.” She turned around. “I only ask for a moment”, he pleaded, with heart thumping in his chest. 

“Well?” 

It was only one word, but he knew from her impatiently expectant tone that he had better give her a very good explanation or she was out of here. Never had it felt so important to achieve forgiveness.

“I hope you were not too offended by Mrs Campion. It was only meant in jest.” 

It was the lamest of apologies but this moment words failed the usually eloquent Sidney Parker. Too much was at stake and too little he had yet put words to in his own mind. He could hardly speak the truth before he fully understood it himself.

He had been at fault, he had insulted her, but if he admitted what their moment earlier meant to him, what she meant to him, why he could not bear his own words hurting her, then he would finally acknowledge the depth of his feelings for her. And she would understand them too. He was not ready for that. 

“Is that all I am to you? A source of amusement?” she said with a sad smile. 

The disappointment and disdain in her eyes choked him. She was… she was everything to him, but again, he could not make himself say that. Not here, not like this, not yet when he only was in the beginning of understanding. 

“No, of course not, you're…” he stuttered instead, fighting to manage something coherent. “Forgive me.”

“On the contrary, you have done me a great service. I'm no longer in any doubt as to how you regard me.”

Her words were harsh, but he sensed she was more saddened than furious and that was all the worse.

She turned and started walking away again. It seemed she had not the faintest idea how he regarded her. How could he put this right? He had to try. Once again he followed her, took hold of her arm and made her turn around.

“Miss Heywood.”

“What?” she snapped, no longer able to keep a lid on her strong emotions. “What is it you want from me?”

He wanted so many things that it was impossible to tell her. He wanted to make her happy; he wanted to be by her side; he wanted her to stay just like she was; he wanted to hold her to his chest and whisper against her hair that he was sorrier than she ever could imagine and that the only moment this day that had given him any joy was when he was with her in that boat, and he wanted the rest of his life to be a stretch of such precious moments. With her, always with her. 

He did not know how or where to begin without exposing himself more than he dared, so all he could do was meet her stare, her hazel eyes tearful and simultaneously so hard that it pierced his heart.

“Please be kind enough to leave me alone. Excuse me.” 

His attempt to apologise had failed spectacularly. This time he did not follow because he sensed he could not manage what she needed to hear in this moment. He needed time. He watched her walk away feeling like a lesser man than he ever had. Now he knew he had been wrong thinking Charlotte would not expect anything from him this day. She expected him to treat her with decency and respect. Only that and yet he had failed. He must find a way to put this right.


	15. With you I am my best self

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sidney has an epiphany and Mrs. C gets told off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Sorry, this took long. Since last chapter the Sanditon fans received the worst news possible and our world is undone. This does certainly NOT mean that I intend to put Sanditon from my mind! Still hopeful someone will have better sense than ITV and film a second series but in the meantime I will keep writing.
> 
> Thank you for being so supporting about my writing, it makes my favourite hobby all the more fun.  
I have gotten a few questions from readers and thought I would answer here. 
> 
> Will there be more chapters? Yes. I will write to the end of episode 8 and then continue beyond by making up my own story/season 2. Now there is more reason than ever. I have no clue how many chapters it will be yet, and I do not know how my story will go. 
> 
> When will next update be? My updates are irregular. I write as often as life permits and post as soon as I feel the chapter is ready. I always tweet (@MissPiony) when there is a new chapter available. Personally I also think Fanfiction.net (where I also publish) is better than AO3 if you wish to get alerts.
> 
> This is last chapter before Christmas, but I have published a fluffy one-shot and there might be another so look out for those if you need a HEA in Christmas time.

-o-

The race was over, and the crowd had dissolved, some people already heading back to London, but Sidney had stayed behind at the riverbank with the excuse that someone needed to ensure the boats were securely tied to their poles and the oars stowed away. Mrs. Campion was likely waiting for him in town, expecting him to join her to London but he was in no hurry. He needed time alone.

He had been irritable on the verge to enraged after the conversation with Charlotte. He was not annoyed with her but with everything and everyone else, himself most of all. He had snapped at Tom when he disturbed his train of thoughts with his silly strategy talk for the competition. Tom's sense for others' feelings truly was non-existent and Sidney had felt like walking away from the whole event but stayed out of loyalty. He had only answered with an absent-minded snort when Mrs. Campion wished him luck at the starting line, distracted by Charlotte at the corner of his field of vision. He had rowed furiously during the race, not because he cared if 'The Parkers' won but because he had so much steam he needed to get rid of. In each pull he applied maximum strength, as if rowing away from something, rowing towards something without knowing what. It did not bother him that Stringer's team won, until the team captain accepted the prize cup with the grumpy remark that this was not the prize he was after. The comment had stuck with him and now he replayed it in his mind.

What had Stringer eluded to? What prize? He brought the oars from the boats and put them down in the grass, reminiscing Charlotte bringing them the other way earlier. Suddenly he had a flash of her with Stringer instead. Remembered how easy they always seemed in each other's company; when they talked and laughed at the construction site, her comforting him after Old Stringer's accident, the banter between them during the cricket match and Stringer going soft on her when he bowled. Sidney's head started spinning and he felt slightly nauseous from the epiphany that hit him with force. Why had he not understood this before? All the signs were there, the evident happiness in her company, the unmasked admiration. Stringer was in love with Charlotte, of course he was. But more important to Sidney; was she in love with him?

By now he was so overwhelmed with emotion that he had to sit down in the grass. He was not sure why it mattered so much to him if Charlotte was in love with James Stringer, but it did. It mattered so much that his whole body tensed at the thought and an almost physical pain struck him.

'Not the prize I was after'… Did that imply that Stringer thought she was in love with someone else? With Sidney? In his agitated state, that idea suddenly cut through everything else, like a beam of light finding its way to his core. It made him calm, it made him exhilarated. What if love was the true reason his words earlier had hurt her?

In his mind he revisited everything that had happened in the last days and it dawned on him how he repeatedly must have hurt her if she indeed was in love with him. Not only by words said, but by bringing Mrs. Campion here, by seeking Charlotte's company to ease his own mind only to leave her for another again and again. Part of him hoped she was not in love with him, so he would not have behaved so badly to her and made her sad, but part of him… the joy he felt at the mere possibility that Charlotte had feelings for him. It was like a warm, glowing ball taking shape inside his chest, expanding throughout his body until he had a tingling sensation all over, from his fingertips to his toes.

If she was in love with him, nothing could make him happier. No one. Because he was in love with her. Laughing out loud in wonder, he lay down on his back in the grass, spreading arms out as if ready to embrace the sky, or embrace Charlotte. Still smiling he closed his eyes and just stayed like that, felt the warm sun on his face. He was in love with Charlotte Heywood. Her and no one else. Once the thought had appeared in his mind with such clarity, it only took a split second for it to root there, grow and blossom. He was in love and had been for some time. At the ball, during the carriage ride, when he was upset about the danger she put herself in going to London alone, all the times he was furious with her for giving him reason to be furious with her when all he really wanted was to be with her. He did not know when it had started but he knew he did not want it to end, all he wanted was for his feelings to be reciprocated. Were they? He had to find out, but first there were things to deal with. He had let himself be distracted by Eliza Campion, by the past and he had to put an end to that to be able to start with a clean slate, to be able to move on. Move on with Charlotte, if she would have a flawed man like him.

Once that realisation hit him, he sat up abruptly. He had to return to town and send Mrs. Campion away, then he needed to see Charlotte and apologise again, for real this time. The decision was formed inside him. He had been running around in a maze and now it was finally completely clear to him which way he had to go. He stood up without bothering to brush off some grass that had stuck to his shirt or smoothing out his wrinkled breeches and set off in direction to Sanditon with purposeful strides.

His heart jolted when he saw Mrs. Campion standing waiting for him under a tree. It was not the same somersault of joy it had made when he saw Charlotte earlier today, rather the uneasy feeling coming with the knowledge that he now had to face something he was not looking forward to. He felt sorry for her because he knew with what hopes she had come here and now he had to let her down.

She smiled when he was approaching.

"You know you didn't have to wait for me", he said politely.

"I've waited ten years. What's another quarter of an hour? The truth is now that I've found you again, I can scarcely bring myself to let you out of my sight."

Somehow that remark made him shudder.

"Eliza, I..." Her name felt strange on his tongue. It was long since she had been his Eliza. She was Mrs. Campion to him now and he had realised over the course of this day that she never would be anything else.

"You know, I never lost hope that we would stand beside each other once more. Here we are. Fate has gifted us a second chance", she interrupted him.

He watched her intently and took a deep breath, knowing he could not postpone what he had to say. He had intended for something courteous and vague, not to offend her but for the second time today words did not come out as he had planned. It was as if her words made something within him snap and the pity he just felt transformed into something else. Resentment.

"You didn't though, did you?"

His tone was harsh, and her smile faded to be replaced with a look of insecurity.

"What did I not do?"

It was uncommon to speak without a veil of courtesy in the circles they moved, so it was not strange that she was taken aback. For so many years Sidney had not spoken what was on his mind, instead withdrawn inside himself, but time spent, and conversations held with Charlotte had changed that. First because she inspired such intense anger in him that it was impossible to hold back, then gradually and unconsciously, he had come to trust her and wanted to talk to her openly and with honesty. With her, it felt natural to speak what was on his mind, like he had in the boat. Now he found that it spilled over to this situation, he was unable to go on pretending like nothing or smooth things over. He felt an intense need to speak frankly to Mrs. Campion, perhaps for the first time ever.

"Wait for ten years", he answered. "You did not. You got married Eliza. You choose to break our engagement and marry another man."

Her face changed into a vexed expression, she had not seen this coming.

"Dearest Sidney, I thought we had put that behind us. You cannot seriously hold that silly thing against me after all this time?"

He found her answer extremely provoking.

"I don't know what makes you think I can so easily put this behind me. You don't know anything about my sentiments then, or how I feel now. Not once did you enquire as to how I took it when you broke off the engagement, you simply seem to pretend it never happened and assume we can pick up where we were then."

"Don't be such a simpleton, Sidney. It was so long ago. Why let it destroy our chance of happiness now?" She sounded like a whiny child to him and he suddenly remembered how she always had sulked when she did not get her way, but back then he had forgiven her because her big blue eyes and her radiant smile were so adorable. How blind he had been to her egoistic traits.

"I have been trying to fool myself into thinking the same and that is the reason why we are here at all, why you are in Sanditon. I convinced myself that given this unexpected chance, I could not let it pass me by. Only today I realised it passed by a very long time ago. I thought I continued to love you all these years, but I didn't. I loved the idea of you and let no one else in, but I didn't love you anymore." He paused and looked at her almost in wonder as something occurred to him. "I wonder if I ever really loved you, because I didn't know you."

"You knew me Sidney, of course you did, and I am not different now. I have not changed."

"I knew your charms during a London season. I was bold enough to kiss you a few times after we were engaged and I was infatuated with you up to my ears, but I am not sure I knew you or you me. You did not share your innermost thoughts and I never expected you to, I was pleased with you just being pretty and I don't think you wanted to be anything beyond that. It never occurred to me that it might be a good thing if we sometimes challenged each other, if we were aware of each other's flaws."

She batted her eyelashes in surprise, and he could see in her eyes that he had no clue what he meant by this because she never had experienced, neither sought, challenge in a relationship. She was too shallow for that. Once batting her eyelashes had been enough to make young Sidney weak at the knees but now it did nothing to him and he continued relentlessly.

"I thought I knew enough, but when you without warning sent me that letter breaking off the engagement, told me you were to marry another and did not even have the decency to tell me to my face…" His voice broke, filled with emotion but then he resumed with newfound strength. "I should have realised I never knew you. Instead I put you on a pedestal, found excuses for your behaviour for so long. I have realised now that there can be none. The choice you made and the way you treated me were despicable."

"I didn't want to..."

"Then why did you? No one forced you, you had a choice. Your family had already accepted my proposal. I was good enough for you!"

She flinched at his raised voice.

"Surely you must see that the marriage I secured was a more advantageous liaison?"

He snorted with contempt.

"That is exactly what I mean. You chose him over me, not for love, that I could respect, but for money. Or maybe that is what love is to you, something to be paid for."

He knew he was offending her beyond repair, but he had waited ten years to let these words out and once he had started he could not stop himself.

"You nearly broke me Eliza. Or you did break me, but Tom saved me when pulled me out from the gutter, paid my debts and sent me off to the West Indies. I managed to build myself up again there, far away from you, but only just. Now you expect me to start over with you, trust you, but I cannot. You say you are no different now, but I am, and I need another kind of woman. Truth is, I don't even like you anymore, the way you treat people around you with so little care. You are unkind and petty, insensitive of feeling. Worse, you are toxic because you make me behave no better than you when I am in your company. I don't blame you for that, I blame myself for that moment of weakness, but I won't let it happen again."

"Are you thinking about the incident with the Heywood girl?" Her laugh was hollow. "Is that it? Is all this about her?"

"Leave Charlotte out of this, this is between you and me. You made your choice. A life with me would not have been as luxurious compared to with him, but you would hardly have lacked anything. You certainly would not have lacked love. I loved you and I continued to love you for so long. I am the fool for not realising sooner you were not worthy of it."

"Sidney, I am still fond of you. I always were", she pleaded.

"Don't you see that even if it were true it would make your choice so much worse?

"But you must be fond of me or you wouldn't have invited me here?"

He clenched is jaw.

"Truth is you cannot presume to know my mind and at this point I don't even want you to know it. I didn't really invite you here if you must know, you and Tom managed that just fine between the two of you and I was foolish enough not to stop it in time."

Her eyes went from tearful to hard.

"You will humiliate me. Everyone expects us to get engaged. Now I will be the widow who came to Sanditon to pursue Sidney Parker and was rejected."

He sighed heavily.

"I'm sorry, I cannot help what people assume. After you left me, I thought I went my own way, but I see now I never did. All this time I have done what people expected of me. Mourned you, closed myself off to others and when you turned up again showed you attention anew, but none of that is what I want. It is not the life I want, and it is time I chose my own path, for real."

"Is this your final word?"  
"I think it is."

They stared each other out for a moment, and he noticed how the displeased wrinkles in her face seemed to have become deeper. "Let me walk you back to town", he finally said.

They walked back in cool silence and found her carriage awaiting. Before she entered it she turned to Sidney.

"I am sorry", he said but realised he was not really.

Her steel blue eyes challenged him for the first time, showing the inside of Eliza Campion was far from sweet.

"No, you are not, but you will be Sidney, I promise you that. This is not the last you have heard from me. You see, I don't join a race unless I think I can win it and I don't consider this one lost yet."

"You had better accept defeat because my mind is made up."

"If you claim to have learned so much about the world in these years, Sidney, I'm surprised you still have to learn that there is so much more than our free will steering our actions and decisions. Reality will catch up with you."

"I'm glad I have realised I'm not as cynical as you. I believe we all can chose who we want to be. Goodbye Mrs. Campion."

"Goodbye but I'm certain we will meet again."

Not if he could avoid it.

She gathered her skirts and entered her carriage. Sidney felt light at heart when he watched it drive away, her words did not scare him.

He knew what he had to do now. Apologize to Charlotte. He knew that would frighten him beyond belief if he spent too much time thinking about what to say or what her reaction might be, so he resolutely set off for Trafalgar House at once, hoping he would find her there.

The house was quiet when he arrived, and he assumed everyone was resting in their rooms after the regatta. He was just wondering how he might get Charlotte to come down from her chambers without alerting anyone else, when he noticed light in Tom's studio, went looking and found her there tending to Tom's papers as it seemed. Alone.

She looked up when he entered. She had told him to leave her alone, but the eyes that now met his seemed weary rather than angry.

"If you're looking for your brother…" her words trailed off and he instinctively knew that the first thing he had to let her know was that her was there for one thing only, one person; her. His throat felt dry and his heart was beating like a drum, but he managed to speak with confidence. He found it hard to meet her gaze but forced himself to shift it from the floor where it had dropped without his permission.

"I'm not. As a matter of fact, I was looking for you."

Initially her eyes seemed harder than usual, but he did not miss the flicker of surprise even in the dim candle light and prayed she understood.

"I thought you and Mrs Campion would be heading back to London."

Almost amused, he registered her chin up in the air and the tone of defiance in her voice, telling him she wondered why he hell he was he was here after the way he treated her earlier. How he loved that there was a fire to her even when her appearance was calm.

"She's already left." He answered with the same exterior calm, without being provoked. She was in her right to be angry with him and he was not here to argue. He was here to make amends, to make up… and to let Charlotte know it was her he wanted to be with. "I decided against joining her." He took a deep breath and kept his eyes locked with hers. "On reflection, I realised I would rather be here."

The silence that followed seemed to echo in his ears and he watched her intently. The words were spoken, but did she understand what he was saying? He could not be sure, he knew he had to give her more, disclose more of himself if this was to be the apology he wanted it to be. If he in any way was to make up for his actions and words ever since the ball.

"I… er… I am a great deal less than perfect. You've made me all too aware of that" he confessed.

She had made him see all the things he seemed to be in the eyes of others but did not wish to be, and all the things he was not, but wanted badly to strive for. For her. She had made him want to be as true to himself as she was and to show that version of himself to her.

"But for whatever it is worth I believe I am my best self my truest self when I'm with you."

Her look was one of utter confusion as her big dark eyes seemed to stare inside his soul and suddenly his courage failed him. He wanted to add 'All I want is to be with you. Do you feel the same?' But what if he was wrong, if she had no feelings for him and wondered why he was making this foolish declaration? He knew he could not bear to hear her say that, not just now when he had exposed himself so completely. He had taken a leap of faith and spilled his heart to her, for the first time in so many years opened himself up to anyone. He could not bear a possible rejection in this moment. His outside remained unperturbed, but he clenched his hands behind his back and was nearly overwhelmed by the distress that now inhabited him. The sudden panic that shot up inside him made him end the conversation.

"That is all."

He broke eye contact and with a curt nod spun around and left her before she had a chance to respond.

His heart was still beating fast when he almost stumbled out on the street and he inhaled the fresh evening air deeply to try to calm himself. Damn, this was even harder than expected. Before he went there he had only thought so far as to what he had to say, had to let her know. He had not allowed himself time to reflect upon what her reaction might be and now he had fled before she could let him know.

He spent the night awake in bed and realised it was not the first time she made him sleepless, but it was only now he understood why. Because he had feelings for her, always had had even if they had changed and deepened better he got acquainted with her.

Lying there, he saw her before him, like she had been in the soft candle light in Tom's studio. So amazingly beautiful. In his imagination her eyes showed him forgiveness and a need equalling his own. In his mind he did not leave, instead he walked over to her and took her in his arms and kissed her. Or she walked over and wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. This was more than enough to keep him awake, but even more disturbing was not knowing what her thoughts were about what he had told her, and he wished he had been courageous enough to stay and find out.


	16. A cliff-top walk is much more to my taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a thousand night-time questions are asked and finally receive an answer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Thank you for all reviews to the last chapter, I really appreciate them, and you are just the loveliest readers one can have. This chapter has been haunting me, because I never manage to finish it! It just grows longer, and I can’t stop editing but here it is at last.  
I hope you all feel energized by all the positivity after the US premiere of Sanditon, I’m still nurturing a hope there will be a second season. Don’t miss Fabiola SPN’s beautiful video ‘Sanditon needs a second season’ on YouTube and please tweet bomb @masterpiecepbs with requests for another season! Sorry for campaigning, now I will let you read in peace.

'That is all', Sidney had concluded, turned on his heels and left. She had remained frozen next to Tom's model of future Sanditon, stunned and bewildered by his unexpected words.

It was not all.

It was a turmoil of emotions, heart beating erratic and a sleepless night tossing and turning on crumpled sheets with those words resounding in her head, trying to figure out what he really meant.

'I decided against it.'

He had decided against joining Mrs. Campion to London. A wave of joy rolled through her, followed by confusion. Why? Did it mean he would not engage himself to her again?

'On reflection, I realised I would rather be here.'

Here? What exactly did he allude to by 'here'? In Sanditon? In Tom's studio? Or was it possible... with Charlotte?

All she had managed in her befuddled state was to stare at him, mutely willing him to explain. She was almost afraid to blink in case he would disappear, but he did not. He stayed exactly where he was, rooted to the wooden floor, in this moment no longer inclined to escape her. When he spoke again, his words were not rushed, but slow and deliberate, like he cared a great deal about what he was about to say and how she would receive it. He seemed to be treading carefully, not to repeat his previous mistake this day when words had come out so hurtful. This time he wanted to make sure to repair his wrongdoings, not cause further harm.

Silently she had observed him, trying to read him. She was so sad and angry with him still and if he had come here to mock her again she would not stand it. The candle light cast flitting shadows on his handsome features, but she saw him well enough to realise there was not the slightest hint of tease or condescension there.

He diverted his gaze before he continued, as if to summon his courage, then met her eyes anew with an earnest expression that almost seemed to leave his soul bare to her.

'I am a great deal less than perfect.'

Those words were truly unexpected, shocking even. With absolute candour he admitted to her that he thought himself flawed. She had indeed thought him imperfect before but now... He had treated her badly today, when he did not stand up for her and she abhorred that, but now he was here and trying to make amends and in this very moment he seemed quite perfect.

'You have made me all too aware of that.'

Now she shivered with embarrassment thinking of all the times she had spoken harshly to him, criticised or mocked him. No man in his right mind would want anything to do with a woman who talked to him like that. A man wanted to feel adored and admired, not diminished or ridiculed, but she seemed to have this constant urge to speak her mind even if it meant pointing out the faults in a man she had come to feel affection for. Why did she have to be so opinionated? Why could she not be more pleasing, when most other girls managed to hold their tongue? For a man to accept constantly being challenged by a woman, he must either be a fool who did not understand it, and such a man she could never love or admire, or a strong, open-minded man who was not put down by it. Such men seemed to be a rare kind.

'But for whatever it is worth I believe I am my best self, my truest self, when I'm with you.'

She gasped silently. Was Sidney Parker that kind of man after all?

He gave no further answer. After that, it appeared he could not bear to stay another minute and he had excused himself saying 'that was all', when it so obviously was not. In this crucial moment, she had remained speechless, incapable of saying anything to prevent him from leaving. Overwhelmed and occupied trying to take in what he had said, she had allowed him to go and now had to live through the night with a thousand questions as her sole companion.

What did it mean when a man said he thought he was his best and truest self with you? Surely it must be a compliment, or?

She already knew she had feelings for him but had thought them unrequited. Was this a confession from Sidney Parker that he felt something for her too? Was it possible that he had turned down Mrs. Campion and decided to remain in Sanditon to be near her? The mere possibility made her feel flushed and terribly upset but not in an unpleasant way. It made the feelings she had tried to hold back gush through her with renewed strength, impossible to restrain anymore. She was undeniably in love with him.

Once again, Charlotte's world had been turned upside down, and simultaneously it expanded its boundaries far beyond what she ever had experienced or been capable of imagining before. It happened so fast she barely knew how to handle it.

'What do you know of love apart from what you have read?' Sidney had asked her in London, with ill-concealed contempt, or at least so she had thought at the time. In light of his words tonight, it seemed that she had to re-evaluate everything the man had said and done once again.

How mistaken she had been when she thought she had him figured out the night of the first Sanditon ball and told him he must be the sensible brother. She still thought him to be that, especially compared to Tom and Arthur, but she had only seen but a fragment of who he was then, and he was so much more than simply sensible.

She had thought she had him figured out anew when he sent Otis away from Sanditon, thought she had revealed the rotten core of a bad fruit, like Lady Denham's exquisite but worm-filled pineapple. He only seemed to confirm her assumptions when he lashed out at her instead of explaining or defending himself, but she had been wrong, so devastatingly wrong. His objections to Otis had nothing to do with racial prejudice and he had not built his fortune on slavery. On the contrary, he willingly had taken a financial loss rather than exploiting fellow humans and had only aimed to protect Georgiana from letting a gambler get his hands on her fortune. In retrospect, it seemed Sidney's reason for not telling Georgiana the truth about Otis was that he did not want to cause her more grief than the separation necessitated. He would bear her hating him instead of Otis to let her faith in men stay intact. In the end he had paid off Otis' debts, giving him a second chance in life and allowed them a proper parting. Indeed, Sidney Parker was not insensible of feeling like Charlotte had accused him of.

It was then she had realised that she had misjudged his character grossly. At the London ball she had come to realise that she also had misjudged her feelings for him. Susan's words made her understand she was in love with him but thought it unreciprocated. The latest event made her wonder if she read him wrong once again.

'What do you know of love apart from what you have read?'

Even if she had retorted like she did not give a fig what he thought of her when he asked this, his words had stung afterwards when she began to realise how much she cared for him and he only seemed to have eyes for Eliza Campion. It had made her scrutinize herself. Made her feel too young, too naïve and inexperienced to ever attract a man like him. It had made her wish she was more like Lady Susan who seemed to understand the world, men and matters of the heart so well.

She turned in her bed for the umpteenth time and let out a frustrated groan, very unladylike and she was grateful she had a room of her own and no one was present to hear her.

After his confession she no longer knew what she was supposed to believe. He apparently did not think as little of her as she had thought, but what exactly did that mean? He had told her she was the one he truly could be himself with and that this was the version of him he liked most. He had not in fact asked for her forgiveness, but she had the feeling that between the lines of the words spoken he had tried to do that and more. But did it mean he wanted to be with her instead of Eliza, that he even would consider proposing to her? Ask her to be his wife?

It was a farfetched assumption, but the thought made her more feverish than before and suddenly he appeared before her eyes like she had seen him by the cove. Like only a wife was supposed to see her husband and perhaps not even then. Did husbands show themselves to their wives entirely without clothes? She was not sure because such matters were never the topic of conversation in Willingden. And would he want to see her like that? Would he who had complained he never could escape her, want to be as close to her as a man and woman could possibly be? The idea made her feel embarrassed even if she had been the one fully clothed that time. To think he might imagine her like that, imagine to kiss her. Now she grazed her own lips with her fingertips. The touch felt so inadequate, it could not dampen the need growing inside of her once she had allowed herself to think of how it would be to be kissed by him. She closed her eyes and tried to feel it, but with no previous experience her imagination was not enough, and she felt desperate emptiness where she would have wanted to feel him. He no longer inspired anger in her, he inspired a need deep inside her like no one else.

What did she know about love? If he asked her again her answer would indeed be different.

She knew now that love had the power to hurt her, to render her defenceless and tear her apart like nothing else. She never expected it could be so cruel, reading about it was not the same as understanding even half of how painful it could be. Yet she would not want to be without the experience because it was also the most wonderful feeling, one which transformed her, turned her into someone she had not known she could be. She loved him and not because he was flawless. She loved him because he was perfect to her even with his flaws. She loved him even if he was not hers to love. That was what she now knew about love.

She would never dare to tell him all that of course, and she wondered; could he be in love with her despite all her flaws?

This was how Charlotte's trail of thoughts went in circles throughout the night. How she wished she had her dear sister here to confide in, to advise her. Even if Alison was even more inexperienced with men than herself they had always been able to talk about everything and she knew Charlotte inside out. Lady Susan would also have been an excellent confidante. She would for sure have known what to make of this utterly confusing situation, but she had returned to London and was out of reach for now.

The third best option was Georgiana and next morning Charlotte went to call on her. Besides seeking advice, she needed to distract herself from the constant thoughts of Sidney, but it was made impossible by the appearance of him in the flesh just as she called on Mrs. Griffiths' door. She spotted him standing further away on the street, engaged in conversation with Tom and when she noticed him he was already staring at her, with a faint smile, telling her that last night was no dream and that he did not regret or wish to take back the words said. When Mrs. Griffiths' housemaid opened the door, Charlotte almost stumbled inside, dazed and flushed under his intense gaze. Just like the day before, she wondered what he wanted from her but now with the feeling it might be something she was willing to give him.

She found it hard to fully focus on what Georgiana said until unkind words spoken about Sidney broke through her absentminded state and she felt the need to defend him. Today she could not bear anyone thinking ill of Sidney.

By now, she considered Georgiana a dear friend, but the topic of Sidney Parker was unfortunately a sensitive one due to Georgiana's animosity towards him. Before, she could not forgive him from separating her from Otis. Now it was like she could not forgive him for showing her Otis' true nature, thus breaking her heart. She did not care to admit that was exactly what Sidney had tried to prevent when he forbade her from seeing Otis and that it was her own disobedient actions that had exposed the ugly truth. Charlotte tried to appease her, eager to ventilate what had transpired last night with someone and Georgiana was the only one in Sanditon which it was even remotely possible to do so with.

"You judge Sidney too harshly. Consider the kindness he showed Otis. I believe he has a tenderness that few people get to see."

"What has he done to make you think so?" Georgiana asked sceptically.

"Not what he has done, it's what he has said. We spoke after the regatta, and then…" Suddenly she felt hesitant to share the precious but confusing encounter.

"And?"

"He said, he felt his truest self when he was with me."

Even to her own ears it sounded silly when she repeated the words, not at all like when Sidney had said them to her.

"Why would he say that?" Georgiana frowned her brow.

"I've been asking myself the same question. I couldn't sleep last night, thinking on it."

Thinking of his words, thinking of him. She felt her cheeks heat again.

"Oh, no." Suddenly Georgiana's voice was filled with alarm. "You aren't in love with him? Please say you are not."

"I…"

She would have loved to confide in her friend, but the look on Georgiana's face stopped her and her next words confirmed she would never support any warm feeling towards Mr. Parker.

"You cannot trust a word he says."

But Charlotte knew she had to trust her own instincts when it came to this, and they told her that Georgiana was wrong. She realised however, that she would not be able to convince Georgiana of this. Sidney would have to show her himself in due course and she hoped that he would. Diplomatically she changed topic instead, to talk of the Midsummer's ball.

-o-

When morning finally came after a long sleepless night, Sidney knew he had to talk to her again. In private. He had to hear the words he cowardly had ran away from last night or he would not find peace. Had to know what she thought of what he had said, of him, if she had feelings for him. Romantic feelings, not anger, vexation or resentment. Could she ever see him as anything beyond Tom's brother and a friend?

He had agreed to meet Tom early by one of the nearly finished buildings for a tour inside. He was determined to seek out Charlotte after that.

As it turned out he saw her sooner than expected, standing on the doorstep to Mrs. Griffiths' house. Everything around him seemed to fade away at the sight of this young woman. To others there was perhaps nothing remarkable about her. She looked like most young women except that she unconventionally wore her hair down like she so often did, something he had come to love that about her, but even from afar her figure was enough to make his heart flutter. He felt like every minute away from her was a wasted one.

"Splendid! It's all coming true."

He heard Tom, enthusiastic as ever in the background and for once shared the same opinion. Not that he exactly knew what he meant with 'all' but when he saw Charlotte Heywood standing there he had the feeling that things were starting to fall into place in his life in a way they never had before. He sensed that she had the ability to make him feel complete. There had already been moments like that between them and he wanted that feeling to be perpetual.

When she threw a glance over her shoulder and noticed him staring at her, her eyes seemed friendly, like he had at least not offended her with his words last night. He missed her as soon as she disappeared into the house and could barely wait until he would get the chance to talk to her alone again. He prayed it would be before tonight's ball, because there in the crowd it would be difficult even if she miraculously wanted to be alone with him too.

-o-

Not long after she had returned to Trafalgar House from Georgiana, she heard some commotion and cheerful voices mentioning Sidney's name. With heart pounding hard in her chest, she joined the others in the hallway.

He registered her at once and bestowed her one of his rare, lovely smiles. The flicker in his brown eyes was warm and she had the notion that once again he was here for her, not to see Tom, Mary or the children.

"Good morning, Miss Heywood."

His voice was so different from the harsh one back in the days when all their encounters seemed to annoy him, when he sighing rolled his eyes and mocked her for being ubiquitous. His next words confirmed that impression.

"I'm going for a walk and was wondering if there was anything you needed in town?"

She could hardly keep from giggling. What must Mary and Tom think of this sudden change in Sidney. She glanced at them and saw that Tom had noticed nothing, but Mary on the other hand smiled knowingly.

"Oh, I, er, I have a dress fitting for the ball. Perhaps I could walk with you?"

She could scarce believe she had been so bold, but an opportunity had arisen to be alone with him and impulse made her act on it because there was nothing she wanted more.

"Of course, be my pleasure." He seemed very pleased and smiled even wider than before, telling her she had done the right thing.

"Go on, then, off you go, you two." Mary's smile grew wider by the minute too. She did not seem to disapprove of the turn of events.

It was not common etiquette in polite society, that a young unmarried woman who valued her reputation went for a walk alone with a gentleman, but just as Charlotte's father had warned, rules were a bit floated here in the seaside town and Sidney was the brother of her host. No one could really see any harm in him accompanying her to her dress fitting. To Charlotte though, it felt momentous when she and Sidney left Trafalgar House together, but she was in no doubt about wanting to go.

-o-

He had no ulterior motives, no plan to lure her away. In fact, no plan at all beyond an intense need to be in her company and resume last night's conversation. It was simply so that he was so focused on her walking next to him that he paid no attention to where they went. All his senses were tuned in on her, on her appearance, her mood.

As if seeing her for the first time, he noticed how small she was compared to him, her head reached just above his shoulder when they walked side by side. She was so delicate, with slender shoulders and narrow waist under her billowing dress and he imagined she would be light as a feather to lift in his arms. Still, and this made him smile, he knew she was far more robust than she looked, like those thin limbs were made of iron underneath the soft skin and he found that combination of being feminine but far from fragile fascinating. Just like the fact that she, who always spoke her mind, now was silent, only breathing a little more strained than usual as they walked uphill. Crowe once observed correctly that she had spunk, but today she seemed slightly apprehensive, like himself.

Their sides occasionally brushed against one another, they moved apart but then connected again as if they could not help it. He struggled to start the conversation but did not know how, without being too abrupt. Last night, his resolve to put things right had made him eloquent. Now he felt disturbingly shy.

They had been alone before, but that was before Charlotte's heated question what he wanted from her, before he declared that he wanted to remain here in Sanditon, in the proximity of her because with her he was himself like with no one else. Those words filled the silence between them and made him feel nervous and exposed. He had put his heart on his sleeve and was in emotional limbo awaiting her reaction. She seemed to have forgiven him, but that did by no means imply that she could love someone as flawed as him.

The urge to break the tension building up inside him made him start rambling about insignificant things.

"A fine fresh day." The most trivial remark of all trivial remarks, but he could not come up with anything better.

"Yes, indeed."

"Bodes well for the ball tonight."

"Yes."

"Though it were, being an indoor occasion, good weather is not so much of a consideration."

"No quite." There was a hint of amused curiosity in her voice. Surely she must think this the most awkward conversation ever.

"But, er, welcome, nonetheless."

He could not remember a time when he had felt less confident in a woman's company. It was a bewildering contradiction. She was the one he could be himself with, yet in this moment his courage failed him because he was so anxious to know if she had feelings for him and it made him resort to polite nonsense. He cleared his throat, hoping to come up with something wittier or more substantial, but no such luck.

"Are you looking forward to the ball?"

Another cliché was all he managed..

"Very much. I love to dance. Are you looking forward to the ball?"

"Yes, yes, very much, very much."

It was at least true. The thought of dancing with her again almost made him dizzy.

They walked a few steps in silence and he was painfully aware of how silly the conversation was and how far it was from what he actually wanted to talk to her about. Her company was lovely, still he was in agony.

"Er... And your family have you heard from them recently?"

This got worse by the minute, asking about relations he never had met and knew near to nothing about. She might as well tell him her family was none of his concern.

"Yes, a letter from my sister came just this morning."

"Ah, well, we both know nothing ever happens in Willingden."

He immediately regretted the words, hoping she did not think he was looking down his nose at her home. Insulting her was the last thing he wanted, but it seemed she had not noticed his faux pas.

Then she suddenly stopped.

"We seem not to be walking into town."

He looked around, only now aware of their surroundings as if she had woken him from a spell. They had indeed walked away from Sanditon and found themselves on the vast green up on the clifftops. The view of the sea and sky was stunning, though not as breath-taking as her.

Clenching his jaw he silently cursed himself.

"Yes, your, erm, your dress fitting! Forgive me. What a fool I am. Should we head back perhaps?"

Embarrassed he turned to walk back but she stopped him.

"No. There is absolutely no urgency about my dress fitting." She smiled almost shyly, then added reassuringly; "A walk along the clifftops is much more to my taste."

He exhaled and dared step closer to her again, to stand face to face instead of continuing walking by her side.

"Good. My thoughts exactly."

He smiled too, now less nervous than before. She had implied that she would rather be alone with him than do anything else. Relief flooded through him and he finally found the words that had eluded him.

"I, er I was hoping that we might find a moment when we could be alone together."

He kept his eyes trained on her face and noticed her eyes widening slightly.

"Were you?"

"Yes. I woke up this morning, my head full of the conversation we had last night."

"So did I."

The way she said it told him she had been thinking of him in the same way he had been thinking of her and it was the most wonderful realisation. The way she now looked at him made him tremble inside. He moved closer as if invisible strings were pulling him to her. She remained still, did not step into him, but neither moved away.

"Charlotte." Saying her name, he was asking for permission.

"Yes." Whispering the one word and turning her face up towards him, shifting her gaze to his lips, gave him that permission.

He had not planned to kiss her even if he had wanted to for some time and he did not dwell on the consequences in this moment. Naturally, he knew that a kiss was so much more than a kiss when it occurred between a lady and an honourable gentleman. It contained a promise of all things to come, of a future together, because a lady should not kiss anyone but her husband.

Only yesterday had he understood the true nature of his feelings for Charlotte and jilted another woman. Until this very minute he had not been sure of her feelings for him. In truth he had not had the chance to consider engagement, marriage, a lifetime with her, all those things that ought to follow if one kissed a lady, or even ought to happen before. All he knew was that he had to kiss her now, he could not help himself because the pull was too strong. She said yes and he closed the remaining small gap between them and placed his lips to hers.

It was astonishing really, how this kiss was like nothing before it. In the past he had kissed many times, many women, yet this kiss was like a first. He had never craved to touch anyone's mouth this much, never been so curious or desired it like this. Her soft lips were cold from the sea breeze at first, but warmer as the kiss continued and she tasted so sweet. He was mindful not to be too forceful even if he would have wanted to kiss her senseless. He knew this was more than likely her very first kiss and did not want to frighten her, did not want to take more than she was prepared to give, but Charlotte surprised him with her response. Initially she was motionless, simply receiving his touch but then curled her arms around his neck and held him to her to make sure he knew she did not want to end this. Her body was so warm and pliable when she pressed herself to him and this unexpected fire set his every nerve ending alight. He never wanted to stop and knew that no matter what was to come after this kiss, he would never regret it. He felt his own breathing get heavier and knew his body was reacting more than he could allow and finally, reluctantly and with all the strength he could muster he broke away.

-o-

She did not know how they came to stand so close, in each other's space, or how his arm found its way around her waist, but now it was there, warm, strong, and pulled her even closer to him. Her body followed without resistance. She, who was used to choose her own path, allowed him to guide her in this moment because this was ground she never had tread before. She was terrified and exhilarated in equal measures, but nothing could have made her stop him. Of all the things she had set out to experience coming to Sanditon she never had expected this; kissing a man she was in love with. She had neither sought love, nor thought she would be kissed, but now she wanted it with all that she was.

There was a moment of hesitation when their faces mere inches apart. She had been nervously giddy before, but that was nothing compared to now and she hoped he could not feel her tremble. When he placed his lips to hers, the seemingly small achievement caused joyful triumph to rush through her body, because this was so much more than merely a pair of lips meeting. It was the eruption of the tension that had been there since their very first meeting; it was the rocky road of friendship and trust growing slowly and with backlashes and hurt on both sides; it was mutual respect, physical attraction, budding love and desire, all channelled into one kiss and the outcome was explosive.

The first touch was cautious, just a graze of lips with noses accidentally bumping together, but they immediately needed to taste each other again and this time she instinctively deepened the kiss. Allowed herself to bury her fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck and hold him to her. His chin may be raspy from stubble, but his lips were so soft. His taste was difficult to define, but fresh almost like when she had tasted the sea water whilst swimming and she immediately knew she would never tire of it. She had been unable to imagine anything close to this sensation, being in his arms held as if she were precious to him, kissing, kissing, kissing until the ground seemed to disappear under her feet and she ran out of breath.

In the end he broke away, with heaving chest, looking discombobulated like she never had seen him before. She felt a flash of dismay, fearing she had done something wrong. Perhaps she was too impudent in her response and now he had come to his senses and regretted the whole thing. Then he broke out in the happiest boyish grin, stepped closer again and took her hands.

"Nothing is wrong", he assured her before she even had the chance to ask, sensing her anxiety. "Quite the contrary." He cleared his throat and then chuckled embarrassed. "It is just the effect you have on me… I have to stop this now… and someone could come, it would ruin your reputation if we were caught kissing."

She nodded and chewed her bottom lip, still in doubt as to how he regarded her after the fiery kiss.

"I would very much like to kiss you again Charlotte. To tell the truth there is nothing I want more, but at a time when it is appropriate, when we do not risk anyone walking in on us and... er… I know it was not right of me to kiss you now, but forgive me, I couldn't help myself."

"I wanted it too", she told him in clear voice. "You didn't make me do something I didn't want to."

Perhaps a lady ought not to give that information away, but she wanted him to know she had desired that kiss as much as he.

Now he chuckled fondly, cupped her cheek with his palm and traced her lips with the pad of his thumb.

"I could tell, but I'm very pleased if you don't regret it, because I don't regret it the slightest."

"Neither do I." She smiled, relieved.

"Good." He took a deep breath to regain his composure. "We should head back so you get your dress ready for this evening and so I'm not too tempted to kiss you again."

She wished he would kiss her again but also realised the risk it would entail out here in the open and did not try to convince him.

They walked back towards town, even closer side by side than on the way up. They did not dare hold hands but let their fingers touch every now and then and even hook briefly. Both were too overwhelmed with emotions to talk of the future or say much at all, but the silence between them was vibrating.

At the first sight of the houses Sidney was reminded there was limited time to get something important off his chest.

"Before we part, I need you to know how much I regret my behaviour towards you during the last days. Ever since London actually."

She looked at him, waiting for him to tell her exactly what he regretted before she said anything.

"I knew... I knew already at the ball that this was what I wanted and now I think perhaps you knew too? When we danced?"

She nodded, jubilant to know she had not imagined, that the feelings had been mutual during that wonderful dance.

"But I allowed myself to foolishly be distracted by someone who is part of my past, not the present or the future. You know Mrs. Campion and I were engaged once, and it was confusing meeting her after so long. I didn't know what to make of it and I behaved so badly to you. I shouldn't have left you alone at the ball, should never had allowed Tom to invite her here. I shouldn't have prioritised entertaining her over being with you out of some misguided duty, when being with you was the only thing I wanted. I shouldn't have let her belittle you when you are the most wonderful person I know. I cannot even begin to explain how happy I am that you have come into my life. Can you forgive me?"

She blushed and smiled, overjoyed by the turn of events.

"I thought I had already showed you I forgive you."

"Well, er, perhaps you have", he smiled in return. "I wanted to make sure... you know this means everything to me and I am so truly sorry for what I did. You deserve so much better."

She had been tormented indeed, but it did not matter anymore.

"Of course I forgive you... Sidney."

Coyly she tried his Christian name for the first time. How he loved hearing her say it, confirming the intimate bond between them.

He wished to continue the conversation, but they were interrupted by jolly shouts. It was Arthur and Diana approaching on the road. If he had not been so ridiculously happy he would have been annoyed with them for the intrusion, but now he simply shrugged his shoulders smilingly. There was no rush now when he and Charlotte knew how they felt for each other.

"Sidney! Miss Heywood! How lovely to see you! We are giving the envigorating exercise Dr. Fuchs prescribed another try, but I must say I think we have had enough for one day. Can we accompany you back into town?"

Both him and Charlotte held back their laughter, it seemed Diana feared physical activity almost more than being ill. He could not deny his siblings joining them and accepted he would have to resume the conversation another time, hopefully tonight.

When he left her outside the dress-maker, it took all his strength not to kiss her or even stroke her cheek goodbye, but he hoped his eyes told her all she needed to know. As he walked away, his head spun even more than it had this morning, but now only with joyous thoughts. Miss Charlotte Heywood was in love with him too.


	17. Harsh reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which one proposal is not made, and another unfortunately is and we find out what happens when Sidney goes to London

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Dear Readers, sorry it has taken so long since the previous update. Perhaps because I find the disastrous events after the clifftop walk hard to re-tell, I have written a few other stories in between, skipping to happier times. But I want to finish this re-telling and I want to add a happy ending beyond season 1, so I guess I just have to bite the bullet to then be able to re-write their history. This chapter is not cheerful, but it will let you know what actually happened when Sidney went to London. This will be a chapter entirely from his POV.
> 
> Also, to put things into perspective £80 000 in 1800 is approximately £6,7 million today.
> 
> I will continue ‘The only reason to marry is love’ in parallel to this, so updates may continue to be a bit unpredictable.

It was late afternoon and Sidney returned back to the house at Bedford Place and slumped down in an armchair in front of the fireplace with a heavy heart. The week that had passed since that earthshattering kiss on the clifftops had been far from what he had hoped. In truth, it had been a total disaster.

After saying goodbye to Charlotte outside the dressmaker that sunny afternoon, he had gone for a walk along the beach. He needed to be alone with his thoughts, needed hear nothing but the comforting, repetitive sound of the waves and the seagulls. His senses were filled with her and he did not want anything to take that away.

Even though he had seen her but a minute ago, he missed her already. He was giddy with happiness over what had passed between them, intoxicated by the sensation of her lips to his own, desperate with need to be close to her again. He needed to hold her, kiss her, make her his… let her make him hers.

When that thought went through his mind, he stopped in his tracks. There it was. He wanted to be hers. Not just physically but in every possible way. He wanted to wake up with her every day, come home to her every night and know that home always was where she was. Their home.

Fondly, he reminisced their conversation in the boat the day before.

'I had convinced myself I was destined to be alone, that I was ill-suited for matrimony.'

'I suppose it is just a question of compatibility.'

Had she been talking about them already then, wiser than him? It seemed to him they were indeed compatible. Not because they were the same, but because when they polished away each other's sharp edges, they seemed to fit together in some strange way. He wanted to make her happy, but he also wanted to keep challenging her and be challenged in return. He wanted her to depend on him, but he also wanted to depend on her. He had never felt like this before, not even when he was infatuated with Eliza. He had wanted to take care of Eliza, provide for and love her, but he had never expected her to be his strength in return, an equal partner. He knew that Charlotte could be that. He knew that a life with her would never be boring. They would always have fiery discussions, he would always desire her. He could only dream of how they could show that passion towards each other behind closed doors. He shut his eyes for a moment, overwhelmed by the physical reaction the memory of her body pressed to his provoked in him. The intensity of his feelings was almost terrifying because he knew he could lose himself in her, but nevertheless he wanted to give himself up to her without a doubt.

No matter from which angle he considered his relationship with Charlotte Heywood, he knew one thing for sure. He wanted her to be his wife so he could spend every day and night with her until the end of his days.

His decision had been made there on the beach. He would ask Charlotte to become his wife and he would do it the same evening, stealing her away for a moment at the Midsummer's ball. Once his mind was made up, he could hardly wait to ask her. He had felt so hopeful then, having had a glimpse of a wonderful life he never had expected to be his and which now suddenly seemed to be within his reach, but from there things had taken an unfortunate turn.

It started in the small things, how someone or something always seemed to come between during the evening, so they did not have a proper chance to talk or even dance. They were so close, but then Tom pulled him into a conversation, and someone asked her to dance and so it went on. It did not help much that their eyes connected almost constantly across the room, it was incredibly frustrating not to be near her, in private and tell her the things he badly needed to tell her. She was radiantly beautiful in her new blue dress. He hoped that the glow that seemed to come from within her was for him, but he had to find out for sure and needed to let her know how he felt. He wanted her to be in no doubt about that.

He had been surprised when Georgiana struck up conversation with him.

"Sidney."

She gave him the usual look of contempt and he wondered if he would ever win her over. He wished he would, both because she was his ward whom he wanted to trust him and because she was dear friend of Charlotte's.

"Ah, Georgiana. Have you had fun this evening?"

He tried to appease her, but his attempt to be friendly appeared to have no effect at all.

"What are you up to with Charlotte?" she asked with narrowed eyes.

"I don't understand your meaning."

"You have done your best to ruin my happiness, how could I trust you not to ruin hers?"

"Nothing could be further from my mind."

He had no intention telling her his plans before he had told Charlotte. He was not sure why her comment disturbed him, but it did. He had never intended to ruin her happiness, only to keep her safe. Despite that he had shown Georgiana Otis's true nature and paid off his debts to save him, she still did not trust him at all and blamed him for love lost. She definitely did not trust him with her friend's heart. He wished she would, but all he could do was to in time prove to her how much he loved Charlotte. Her hostility still it made him uneasy, but he forgot about it when he saw Charlotte dancing with Stringer, enjoying herself, flushed and smiling when she met his eyes. He could not stop looking at her and barely noticed when Georgiana slipped away, to be replaced by Babington by his side.

"What are you waiting for? You haven't taken your eyes off her all night."

Sidney only smiled in response, more at the dancing Charlotte than at Babington, confirming or denying nothing. It was a correct observation and he felt slightly embarrassed. Was it really so obvious, as both his friend and Georgiana approached him on the same subject? He was not ready for others to know before he knew for sure that he had her heart. He thought he did but she had not really said, only admitted she had wanted to kiss him too. When he saw her tonight he wondered if a woman like her could love a man like him, but he hoped so with everything that was him. It seemed like Babington could read him like an open book.

"I hope you receive a favourable answer, old friend. Indeed, I hope we both do."

He realised then that he was not the only one who intended to propose this evening. He knew that Babington was taken by Esther Denham's disputable charms, but he had not known there had been a development that made him think she might accept a proposal. He hoped for Babington's sake that she would but was too nervous for his own part to spend much time pondering upon it.

The dance finished and he saw her throw a glance at him over her shoulder as she headed for the refreshment table. He took that as his queue to finally approach her and whisper to her to please meet him on the balcony.

"Our balcony", he had added with a wry smile knowing she would know exactly what she meant.

It felt appropriate, closing the circle by returning to the same balcony where they had had their first clash, but now for a completely different reason. How mad he had been at her that time, how madly in love he was with her now. That time he had been disturbed when she appeared by his side. Now he waited for her eagerly, with heart pounding hard and fingers grasping around the railing to keep himself together. When she finally came after what felt like hours even if it only was minutes, he immediately turned to her and took her hands. He could not hold her in his arms here, but he had to at least touch her hands.

"At last, I thought I'd never get you alone."

This evening had been trying for his patience to say the least, but he also felt like they had been on a journey to return to this balcony ever since they were here the first time. In a few months' time they had gone from little short of enemies to almost lovers.

"Do you remember the last conversation we had on this balcony?"

"All too well."

She took a deep breath and he wondered if she was nervous like him. Could she guess what he wanted to talk to her about?

"What a brute I was."

"I deserved everything you said."

The way she looked at him made him feel so much in love he thought his heart would burst. He found it impossible to let go of her gloved hands, instead he wrapped them in his, caressed them and felt how she squeezed his hands in return. It was as if they were letting the hands cling on to each other the way they wished their entire bodies could but were not allowed to. Not yet.

"No, you didn't."

He shook his head, he had been so harsh on her that time, much harsher than she deserved, but he was not used to being spoken to like that. Her forwardness and honesty, combined with the pull she exerted on him already then, had made him furious. He did not understand himself then, but he did now and now he was ready to admit and welcome the feelings he had for her. How extraordinarily fortunate he was, that she wanted to stand here with him and that they could laugh at the past together. That she could forgive him his shortcomings.

"I hope that I am a different man now", he said earnestly.

"No. You're the same man but much improved."

She smiled sweetly, like she knew he would never treat her like that again. He knew she had changed him though, or at least brought out what he before had hidden deep inside. He had distanced himself from everything and everyone for so long but now he could not be close enough to her. He wanted her to know him as he was, had no wish to hide any part of himself from her. It was a transformation he had not expected but succumbed to.

"If I have changed at all it is in no small part down to you. I have never wanted to put myself in someone else's power before. I've never wanted to care for anyone but myself."

It was his turn to take a deep breath, trying to slow down his racing pulse. She did not say anything to interrupt him, just watched him intently with her big brown eyes. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that he wanted to make her happy for a lifetime.

"Miss Heywood… Charlotte…"

He paused again, but this time to prepare himself to ask her the burning question.

But once again this night, fate was against them and his words were never spoken. Some sort of commotion from below interrupted the conversation.

"Get out of my way! Unhand me, you blaggards! Esther I have been such a fool, Esther! That little vixen Clara took advantage of me."

An very drunk Edward Denham made an abrupt entrance, stumbling through the doors to the ballroom, making a spectacle of himself, trying to shame his step-sister.

With a silent curse, Sidney stepped away from Charlotte with an apologetic smile and went to deal with the situation. If he had known he would not get the chance to resume the conversation that evening, wild horses could not have made him leave her side. He would have stayed, and he would have proposed no matter if ten Edward Denhams came barging in, but he did not know then what he knew now.

As he dragged Denham outside, made sure he did not return and watched his tall, unsteady figure disappear down the street, he had suddenly heard shouts coming from the opposite direction. Fate intervened again and this time most cruelly. Tom's barely finished apartment house on the terrace was on fire.

Instead of returning to a romantic proposal as he had hoped, he and the whole town had spent hours trying to extinguish the fire. With joint efforts, they finally managed, but the building could not be saved. Sadly enough, it also turned out that Old Stringer had been trapped inside when the fire started and had not escaped the flames. They had saved him from losing his leg, but they had not been there to save his life this time.

Next morning, Sidney and his siblings had gone to watch the ruined building. He was tired to the bone after the many hours fighting the fire and all he wanted was to find Charlotte and continue their talk, but today was a day for grief and serious business. Seeing in full daylight that ashes and burned pieces were all that remained of the grand building which had been Tom's pride, was infinitely saddening and knowing that Old Stringer had died made him feel bereaved but what had struck him with absolute horror was when Tom confessed he had not insured the building because he found the premium too high. In one fell swoop Tom had lost everything because of complete lack of responsibility. He had gambled with everything he owned and more to that, and he had lost. Sidney had felt like flooring his brother with a hard punch but chosen to turn his back on him and walk away rather than doing something he would regret.

In the next days it had dawned on them all how grave the situation truly was. Tom's debt to Lady Denham was an astonishing £80 000 and she was furious enough to have him thrown in debtors' prison right away because with the apartments burned to the ground, her investment would never pay off. She had been convinced to allow Tom a week to come up with a solution and Tom had turned to Sidney with puppy eyes, as usual pleading for his help. His only hope was if his more influential brother could pull some strings.

Sidney had wanted to scream with frustration. For the first time, he wanted nothing more than to stay in Sanditon and lead a quiet life, by Charlotte's side. Tom had prevented that, at least for now. Instead of asking the woman he loved to marry him, he had been forced to bid her goodbye and travel to London to ask people to invest in re-building Sanditon.

When she accompanied him to the waiting carriage that last morning, he had so nearly kissed her out in the open street. It took all his self-discipline not to do it, and he held back only for her. He had felt how she held back in the same way as him, had seen love and trembling desire in her eyes and told himself that it had to be enough for now.

"I'll be as quick as humanly possible, but I have to do everything I can to help the family. And how I manage that, I have no idea."

"I believe you will."

He loved that she had faith in him, more than he had himself but he had to find a way. Not only for his family's sake but for theirs too.

"When I return, we'll finally have a chance to finish our conversation."

He held her hands, and her mouth was so close to his when she looked up on him, that he could feel her breath fanning on his face. Before parting, he tried to commit her to memory, so he would survive being away from her.

He only wondered, why he had such an ominous feeling as the carriage took off. A feeling that everything might be different next time they met.

Now he had been in London for a week, pulling all possible strings on Tom's account but to no avail. He had visited banks, spoken to business contacts here and there but with no result. He could not quite put his finger on it, but he had the uncanny feeling that in addition to that the fact that it was a risky investment, there was something else preventing possible investors from getting involved.

Damnit! He emptied his wine glass in one swig. He was tired and longed for Charlotte with such fervent intensity that it hurt like an infested wound inside him.

As it seemed, he would have to return home empty handed and it would likely mean the ruin not only of Tom, but the entire Parker family. He could kill Tom for being so reckless as to not get an insurance. It was so foolish and short-sighted and a gamble with everyone they cared about. If they did not find someone else who was willing to chip in the money, Tom would have to give up not only his home but everything. He would be brought to debtors' prison, his family fall into poverty. Trafalgar House and this house would confiscate, because as the eldest son he had inherited them both, meanwhile Sidney, Diana and Arthur only had inherited smaller sums of money. Sidney had made the most of his inheritance and he knew Arthur and Diana had savings. Together they would be able to provide for Mary and the children but the life-style they were all accustomed to would be much altered, to a significantly more modest one. Furthermore, if Tom ever made any money, every pound would go to pay off his debts. He would be ridiculed, a laughing-stock, Mary and the children would be shamed. Tom probably did not realise all the consequences and if he did, he was likely relying on Sidney to find a solution before it came to that.

Sidney felt the burden of it all, heavy on his shoulders. Their family would be disgraced, and it would have long-term consequences. Not that Diana and Arthur ever had seemed inclined to marry but now they would for sure not, and Tom's daughters would have nothing to recommend them when they came of marrying age. As for himself... He buried his face in his hands. As things were, he would never be able to ask Charlotte the question he wanted to ask her more than anything in the world. He could never ask her to be part of a dishonoured family, to be his wife. He had to find a solution to save them all, to save himself.

There was a faint knock on the door and Jenkins looked inside.

"You have a visitor, Sir."

He felt a flash of hope. Perhaps one of the investors he had courted had come around.

"A lady", Jenkins added.

"Send her in then." He was disappointed and in no mood for a social call, whoever it might be, but it would be impolite to decline.

When Jenkins returned with the visitor he was not only surprised but rather shocked to see who it was.

"Mrs. Campion?!"

"Why so formal all of a sudden, Sidney?"

She smiled but somehow that smile gave him the creeps.

"Because of how we ended our last conversation, if you remember?"

He was too tired, too desperate to waste energy on being polite.

She sat down without having been asked to and kept smirking.

"You see, that is what I have come to see you about."

"How did you even know I was here, in London?"

"Ah, everyone has heard about the unfortunate business of Sanditon. How very sad about that beautiful new building burned to ashes." She did not look the least sad, spiteful was more like it. "And how unfortunate for Tom... that he was so careless not to insure it and secure his investment. Or should I say Lady Denham's?"

He looked sharply at her.

"You are indeed very well-informed. I'm surprised, I did not know you took an interest in others' investments."

"Oh, I don't, not in general... but when I heard of the buffoon who is on the edge of ruin because he had no insurance and realized it was your brother, I took care to find out the details."

He watched her intently, trying to decipher her. Was it possible that she had come here to offer her help? Something told him the reason for her presence was more complicated than so.

"Now that Lady Denham has withdrawn her investment, Tom's prospects are far from bright."

"My purpose for coming to London is to find other investors..."

"And were your endeavours successful?"

There was no way he would admit defeat to her.

"Not so far but..."

She chuckled.

"Spare me the charade Sidney. I know you were unsuccessful."

How could she know?

"I made sure of it." She held his gaze and her blue eyes were hard as flint.

"You what?" he spat.

"I made sure of it. Remember I'm a wealthy woman now and very well-connected."

"But why would you...?"

"Oh, dearest Sidney. Didn't I tell you that I don't enter a race unless I intend to win it? I told you it was not over."

"You told me I would be sorry..." He remembered and he felt like a chilly wind blew through the room.

"Maybe you will be, maybe not, but I have a proposal for you."

He knew something bad was coming.

"Marry me and I will cover the losses."

That he had not seen coming.

"What? No ne..."

"Let me stop you before you say something rash. Know this, Sidney, that you will not find any new investors here in London." She paused for effect. "As I said, I made sure of that, because I want your only choice to be me."

He stared at her, trying to understand that this was the same girl he once had been very much in love with.

"I still don't get why you would want to marry me, when you know I don't love you. I think I have been very explicit in letting you know that."

"There is nothing to say you could not love me again, but no matter what this is about what I want. You said the choice was mine that time, long ago, but it is not true. I was expected to marry as well as I possibly could, I was an innocent pawn being played around…"

"Come on, that was hardly it! Perhaps that is your skewed view of things but your father had accepted my proposal, I did not lack money."

"You did not have enough!"

She raised her shrill voice and stomped her little foot, furious because he did not agree with her version of how things had come to be. Then it was like she realised this was not the way to convince him and her voice turned low and soft again. "There was an opportunity to marry more advantageously and I did, so know I possess the money and can choose to marry whoever I want. I spent nearly eight years with that old goat, now I choose you."

"But I don't choose you! How can I make you understand?"

"I think it is you who do not understand the full consequences of rejecting me, dearest Sidney. Before you turn down my generous offer, also know this; if you do, I will find ways to smudge the name of Miss Heywood."

His heart skipped a beat and he clenched his fists.

"Miss Heywood? What has she got to do with any of this?"

"I think you know very well, and I won't tolerate that little insignificant girl to ruin my plans. If she is so stupid that she would still marry you even when your family's reputation is ruined, I would make sure to ruin hers too."

He snorted.

"You have nothing on Charlotte, she is completely innocent and pure."

"Is she? I saw the lustful looks she cast on you. She went rowing, alone, with a man who was practically engaged to another. She made him turn down a woman known for her beauty and large fortune and make him consider her instead. Bah! That could only be if she already carried his child and he saw himself forced to marry her. If they marry and the child never is born, it was likely so that the cunning little witch found a way to get rid of it…"

"I have never touched her like that! This is all nonsense!"

He was so furious that he soon would have to throw her out, but he felt compelled to hear what she had to say.

"I am sure you have not, you are too much of a gentleman Sidney, but others would not know. When one is in an influential position like mine, it is so easy to plant a seed which turns into widespread gossip, which turns into well-known facts. Don't think for a second that I would hesitate to do that. Would you cause her that harm when you cannot even ask her to be your wife, given the situation your family currently is in? If you marry me, I will save your family and I will leave Miss Heywood alone. Her reputation will be safe guarded so she can marry someone else one day, perhaps a suitable boy from her village".

She chuckled maliciously and he felt his heart sink. She had him in a trap where it seemed like everyone he cared for would be lost if he did not accept her offer, whilst if he did the only one lost would be him. Charlotte would be hurt, but if he told her the full story she would at least understand his motives.

"I can see that the advantages of my proposal are beginning to sink in. I have only one condition, or well, two. Naturally we will share a marital bed once we are wed, this will not be a marriage only by name."

The idea made him feel nauseous.

"The second is that you cannot tell others about this deal."

"What?"

"No, you have to make your family believe you marry me out of love, and you have to make Charlotte believe the same. You will let them think you met me in London, came to your senses and realised it is with me you belong. As the angel I am, I offered to help your family as an early wedding gift. If you are already engaged to Miss Heywood you will have to break it off."

He felt panic well up inside him. How would he be able to do this to Charlotte? No promises had been made in words, but in their hearts they both knew. He did at least and after the balcony, after the farewell by the carriage, he was sure she did too.

"I am not engaged to her, but I cannot do that…"

"Those are my terms, take it or leave it. If you are not even engaged it should be easy to let her down."

She stood up.

"I will leave you to think about this, but as the sensible man you are, I think you already know deep down that this is your only way out. You know my address. Send me a letter when you have decided, or even better, drop by with an engagement ring."

She swept out and left him with her jeer ringing in his ears.

Paralysed, he remained in the chair, trying to convince himself it was all a bad dream but too much a realist to even be close to succeeding. Suddenly he knew with terrifying clarity that Georgiana would be made right. He would hurt Charlotte, but only because he saw no other solution. To save his family from ruin and to save her reputation, the only way was to break her heart. He would break his own too, but that was of less importance.

"I hope you are happy Mrs. Campion, because you know I am not, but I accept your proposal", he bitterly said out loud to the empty room.

He felt as if he was about to receive a death-sentence rather than getting engaged.


	18. The end of naivety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Charlotte realises that dreams can be blown away like clouds by the sea breeze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: After a pause because I got absorbed by my other story (The only reason to marry is love), I will now continue this one. This is the last chapter covering the 8 episodes on screen and after that I will dive into the continuation.
> 
> I am well aware that many great continuations have been written already so perhaps there is no need for another, but my intention was always to write the story I want to return to and read myself and then I need it to have an ending beyond what we saw on screen. I expect it will be a few chapters after this, but probably not a full-blown second season. I will continue to focus on Charlotte and Sidney because if I'm honest they are the ones I really care about.

In retrospect Charlotte would always think of her stay in Sanditon as divided in a before and an after. Not a before and after The Kiss, even if that in so many ways had rocked her world, but before and after The Fire.

Up until the fire, everything about Sanditon had been an exciting adventure and fairy tale. All the things she had seen and experienced, the new acquaintances she had made, her curious dislike for Sidney transforming into love - everything had been covered by a veil of rosy romance. Even the sadness she felt when she thought her feelings for Sidney unrequited had been romantic somehow.

The fire efficiently tore that veil apart, leaving harsh reality exposed to her eyes, though it took her a few days to fully grasp it.

Tom's grand apartment buildings were burned to ashes and with no insurance to cover the losses, so much else vanished in that fire. A furious Lady Denham withdrew her investment and Tom had to come up with a financial solution in terms of a new investor within a week, if he was not to be turned over to the debtor's prison and his family ruined. Charlotte had thought Tom to be a man of action, but now saw him paralysed, a visionary with a crushed vision. He whined like a sulking child with a broken a toy over the misfortune his own irresponsible actions had brought upon him. Instead of taking accountability he now looked to Sidney for help. Charlotte's respect for him crumbled to pieces when she saw how he, without hesitation, laid the heavy responsibility to find a new investor on his younger brother's shoulders. He simply shrugged his own saying that Sidney was so much better connected and what good would it do if he also went to London instead of remaining in Sanditon, consoling his family. He had deceived everyone; Sidney, Lady Denham, the workers and worst of all his wife and Charlotte found it impossible to understand what could drive a man to do such things. He begged for Mary to forgive him but in Charlotte's opinion did nothing to earn that forgiveness, just waited for it to fall in his lap. He showed little or no concern over Old stringer's death. He gave his condolences and attended the funeral, but the loss of a life seemed to be of minor importance compared to the destroyed buildings and his own financial trouble.

When the veil was removed from Charlotte's eyes she could see that Esther Denham indeed had been right that time when she said that Tom was a megalomaniac who would bring his family to ruin. He was a fascinating man whom she had admired, but in the end one who took far more than he gave without thinking of the consequences and realising the truth was a painful awakening. Once again, it dawned on her how naïve she had been in her judgment of people. Tom's intentions may be good, but the road to hell is paved with such and for the first time she fully understood why Sidney had been reluctant to help him.

She was deeply grateful that the events did not expose Sidney to be the same fickle personality as his brother. Quite the contrary. In the past she had accused him of stepping away from responsibility and not being there for Tom or Georgiana as could expected from a brother or guardian, but now he proved his worth to the point that she almost wished he was less loyal to his family. She loved him all the more for it, but at the same time secretly wished that it was someone else than him who had to leave for London and try to save the family. However, she did understand the cascade of serious events Tom's imminent ruin would cause. His shame would be the entire Parker family's, and not just Mary's and the children's but also his siblings'. If Sidney would ask her to marry him, she would undoubtedly accept because her love made her want to stand by his side through thick and thin, but she knew that an honourable man like him never would propose to a woman under such circumstances as it would mean sharing their disgrace. He had to save Tom not only for Tom's sake but also for everyone else's, and to secure his own future happiness.

Her thoughts often returned to that magic moment on the balcony, before they were interrupted by Edward Denham. It was their last purely happy moment together. In fact, those minutes had been like the epitome of happiness. Everything about Sidney had suggested he was going to propose to her, from the way he wrapped her hands so tightly in his, to the intensely loving way he looked at her and the words he said before the conversation abruptly ended, never to be resumed. It had felt like destiny that he would propose there, where he once had chastised her and left her teary eyed behind. This time he had awaited her eagerly and she had been so nervous, joyful and expectant that she could not quite believe it was really happening. And then it was not. He was pulled away from her, first by Edward, then by the fire and things were never the same.

When he left for London, it had felt like a lovers' goodbye even if the word 'love' never had been spoken. His lips had almost touched hers when he said he would come back to her, so they could finish that conversation. She sensed that it took all his self-discipline not to kiss her there in the middle of the street and that he barely could stand the thought of leaving her behind. She had faith in him finding a solution, but strangely also had an ominous feeling in her gut and wished she could make him stay or go with him and support him. She did not want to become like Mary, a wife who helplessly was left on the spectators' bench, but they were not even engaged yet, so there was no way she could insist.

The week when he was gone was terrible. Besides missing Sidney and worry exceedingly about the future of Sanditon, she had tried to support the equally furious and anxious Mary and console the devastated James Stringer.

Mary was so angry with Tom that she hardly could stand looking at him, let alone speak to him and Charlotte had to act as their go-between which she found quite awkward. Living under their roof, it was obvious to her that if Mary had been able to she would have walked out on her husband. He had gambled with their future, lied to her face and set the town and his grand plan far above his own marriage. Her trust in him had been destroyed, her love overturned. The best she could hope for now was for Sidney to rescue them all or she would be left with nothing in terms of marriage, reputation and means to live off. She was a patient and loyal woman, but her limit had finally been reached. For Charlotte it was something of a shock to watch their relationship crumble. She had thought them a happily married couple, complementing one another well, but now realised how fragile everything could be if one deceived the other and the equilibrium disturbed. It was therefore something of a relief when the Parkers returned from Old Stringer's funeral and surprisingly seemed to have reconciled. Mary commented on it later when they were alone, even if Charlotte had not asked.

"Tom asked my forgiveness today, in the church after the funeral. Perhaps he sensed it would be harder to get my forgiveness than God's", she sighed and gazed into thin air without smiling.

"And did you?"

"I said that I do forgive him. I told him I still love him. The first was a lie, the second unfortunately is not. He is a fool, but I am the bigger fool for having gifted him my heart. Now I have to live with my choice, there is no other way. Remember that, dear Charlotte, choose your husband wisely because it is a life-long commitment and none other will have such impact on your happiness."

Her frowned brow changed into a soft smile.

"Something tells me you have already chosen and if it is indeed so, I think you never will regret that choice."

Charlotte's cheeks turned hot and she was grateful when a cry from baby James interrupted their conversation. Even if she hoped that she and Mary would one day be sisters, not only friends, she would never speak of it before there had been an actual proposal. Oh, pray that Sidney would return so her mind could find peace.

During Sidney's absence she also spent time with Mr. Stringer. Charlotte felt immense compassion for him. He had lost his father and their last words had been spoken in anger because James wanted to move to London for an apprenticeship as architect. After his father's death, feelings of guilt had made him decline the offer. Instead he would remain in Sanditon and help rebuild the town his father had been so proud of as a posthumous apology. In one strike he had lost his only family and his dream and unlike Tom, he had no blame in the misfortune. Stringer had never been anything but hardworking and kind and deserved more.

It was with some uneasiness Charlotte realised that she may also have been part of Stringer's dreams and hopes. She could not be sure, but it was something in the way he complimented her at the ball and said that he hoped that the man who had won her heart deserved her. There was a raw edge to his voice then, one which she never heard before or after. It made her guard her behaviour towards him in a different way than before because she would never want to lead a good man on. Stringer was a valued friend, but nothing more and she would not have him hope so. When he grieved his father, she wanted to embrace him and tell him everything would be alright, but it was not her place to hold him and she could give no such promises. She knew as little as him what the future held.

Still, during the days Sidney was gone she had believed there was hope. Hope of rebuilding Sanditon and keeping the Parker's reputation intact, hope for her and Sidney as a couple. When he finally returned it turned out that only one of them was possible at the cost of the other.

That was the day when the last shreds of the romantic veil before her eyes disappeared, as if blown away by the salty sea breeze.

When she heard the ruckus from downstairs and realised Sidney had come, her heart had made a somersault of happiness. They would finally be together again. Perhaps they would be engaged soon and be allowed to show their affection towards one another freely.

Immediately when she saw him, she froze inside, knowing something was wrong. His entire family jumped with joy over some news he had delivered before she entered the room, completely oblivious to his subdued manners, but Charlotte immediately picked up on a strange vibe. The tension in his body, the averted gaze, lack of a smile and the clenched jaw did not indicate he was a bearer of glorious tidings even if Tom extatically proclaimed that he was. Her instincts told her he was sad or angry or both. Still, she would not have been able to predict the words that were to come over his lips, ending her dream brutally even if he tried to say it gently.

She watched him intently as the others left, eager to go and share with lady Denham that Sanditon was saved even if Charlotte had not yet understood how.

When they were alone he moved closer and his eyes finally met hers, there was no joy or victory in their depth, only a pain so deep that it felt almost like a physical punch merely to behold. He did not speak, only breathed as if every breath was hard to take.

"What is it?" she asked when she no longer could bear the oppressing silence.

He grabbed her hands, like he had at the balcony, but she knew with terrifying certainty that he would not continue where he had left off that time. Now it felt like he clung on to her for dear life, like he needed the connection to find strength to say what he had to say.

"Charlotte. My dearest Charlotte."

Why did she get the feeling that he was saying her name because he was unsure if he would be allowed to say it again? It made the angst bloom fully in her chest.

"I had hoped that when I returned I would be able to make you a proposal of marriage."

He swallowed.

"But I cannot be."

His eyes seemed like dark pools of despair in his handsome face now, begging for forgiveness already before he delivered the blow. She wanted to reach out her hand and touch his cheek, but somehow sensed it was not hers to touch again.

"The fact is I have been obliged to engage myself to Mrs Eliza Campion."

He watched her expression shift as she tried to process his unfathomable words.

"Please believe me that if there was any other way to resolve Tom's situation… I would…"

"I understand." She inhaled sharply, trying to keep herself together. Tried to maintain her dignity, like she had that day in the tent when she had been ridiculed. Tears began welling up in her eyes, but she did not want to cry in front of him. Every part of her wanted to be with him, but despair made her tear away.

"I wish you every happiness. Excuse me", was all she managed with choked voice before turning and running up the stairs.

Afterwards she regretted her hasty exit many times. It had been her one time alone with him, the one opportunity when it would have been possible to ask how such an engagement came about. Ask if part of him was happy; if he still had feelings for Mrs. Campion; if he loved her, Charlotte. Then again, she knew she would never had stooped to ask those questions even if she had stayed and there was nothing he could say to make things better.

He had told her he had hoped to propose to her. He had confirmed it had not simply been a frivolous girl's imagination running wild when she thought he would. His hopes had been the same as hers. That knowledge would always reside in her heart, but the harsh reality was that the one way Sidney had found out of his family's predicament was to offer himself to someone else. Someone with a substantial fortune.

The pain that followed was so much worse than when she first realised he own feelings and thought Sidney did not reciprocate them. Now she knew that he returned her feelings and it had made them deepen from an infatuation to love. Yet he would not be hers. He was not free to choose her.

When she returned to her room, the first thing her eyes fell on was the letter she had been writing to Alison just as Sidney arrived. It seemed to be mocking her now.

Alison, it is possible that my future, too, could rest on Sidney's swift return. I wish I could tell you more. But it may be that very soon I will have the most exciting news to share.

It was only a half an hour ago that she had been so hopeful and believed that she might soon have news of an engagement to share. Everything was different now and in pure desperation she crumpled the letter and tossed it away. Her hopes and dreams had crumpled just like that. How could fate be so cruel? Or was fate like it always had been and she had only been a naïve girl for thinking that she would get to marry the man she had fallen in love with? Her thoughts kept on spinning until she did not know what to believe anymore.

Was his love for her as deep as hers for him, or would he in time be pleased with this arrangement? Then she remembered his words about being his truest self with her and deciding on not joining Mrs. Campion to London. She reminisced the all-consuming feeling when they kissed, the look in his eyes at the balcony and the very different look just now and she felt convinced that he was as unhappy as her right now. Perhaps feeling even worse, because he would have to marry a woman he did not love. Charlotte was at least still free.

Her heart broke that day. She thought she would break altogether and stayed behind when the other's cheerfully disappeared off to Lady Denham. Sidney did not take it lightly but seeing him pretend to be happy to keep appearances up for the family would be equally painful, so she stayed away. At dinner time she let them know she was unwell kept crying in the solitude of her room. A concerned Mary came knocking at her door, but respectfully left when Charlotte asked her to.

She shed tears for herself, for him and for them. For the life she had glimpsed which never would be theirs to share. She cried until there was an empty stillness inside her and she knew that she never would be the same. The carefree Charlotte who thought all stories end well was gone. When she rushed out the doors after Sidney's confession, she was another and she knew she would never see the world quite in the same way again.

She realised she could not stay in bed the next day without raising unwelcome questions, so she pulled herself together. She was not sure how she managed the charade but dug out the strength from somewhere deep within. At breakfast she was told Sidney had returned to London already. Part of her was relieved she would not have to face him in front of the others, part of her wept silently because they had not even been allowed a proper parting.

She felt nauseous when Tom chirped that of course Sidney must be eager to officially be reunited with the woman he had dreamt of for so long and perhaps there might be a wedding before the end of the summer. Perhaps even in Sanditon and a reason for the London beau monde to return here again. Mary on the other hand looked searchingly at Charlotte, but Charlotte shook her head in response to the unspoken question. She had nurtured a hope, but Sidney had broken no promise to her. Her dream had been shattered but what was that compared to saving an entire family and a town? Nothing. Her dreams were nothing and she preferred not to talk about it because it would be even more painful if everyone understood the sacrifice being made. The perceptive Mary understood her silent request and did not speak of it again for the duration of her visit in Sanditon but when they were alone she silently hugged her an Charlotte allowed her tears to wet Mary's shoulder for a while, before she wiped them away and gave her a brave smile.

She did not speak much of it with Georgiana either. It was no secret that her friend disliked and distrusted Sidney and she knew that if she told her everything that had come to pass, from the kiss to the near-proposal, Georgiana would only say that it proved what she had known all along. That he was a man who could not be trusted. Charlotte knew that was not the truth and could not bear her friend thinking so, thus chose to carry her sorrow alone.

When Georgiana a few days later received the news of Sidney's engagement through a letter where he also informed he would not come to Sanditon again for the foreseeable future as his commitments kept him in London, she could not resist commenting to Charlotte.

"For a while there around the ball I thought he was playing some game with you."

"No, indeed he was not playing any games with me. Mr. Parker has been nothing but kind to me and has not misled me in any way", Charlotte answered softly.

"So you don't hold grudges against him?"

"He is the last person on this Earth I hold any grudges against. You should not be so hard on him."

Georgiana snorted.

"I beg to defer. Anyway, I think he gets what he deserves. His fiancée seems to be a cow."

This remark was too much for Charlotte to leave unchallenged and she answered with a fire that took Georgiana completely by surprise.

"He has done nothing to deserve that! He has tried to be a good guardian to you. He saved you from ruin when you ran off to Otis and was abducted to London and he paid of Otis's debts even if he had no reason too. You are behaving like a spoiled child! How about you grow up and realise you are not the only one who has encountered hardship in your life and try to show some gratitude towards those who want to help you?"

Charlotte got to her feet and stormed out of Georgiana's room and Mrs. Griffith's house and ran down to the beach. She did not want anyone know of the love they had lost, yet it was hard to pretend like a sacrifice had not been done. She was not a child anymore and therefore found it hard to put up with Georgiana's petulant childish nonsense.

Georgiana did not ask her forgiveness or try to make amends in any other way when they met next. Charlotte did not regret or take back her words and so for the rest of the summer, the acted politely when they met but their easy friendship was not the same as before. Charlotte was less inclined than ever to confide in Georgiana what actually had passed between her and Sidney or how much she continued to grieve him even as the weeks passed and so they gradually grew further apart.

In the weeks that followed much of the town's attention was on the upcoming wedding between Lord Babington and Esther Denham. Charlotte was genuinely happy for them, but there was a small thorn of envy in her heart which she was not proud of and she dreaded the wedding day as she realised Sidney would for sure return to take part of it.

If she was growing apart from Georgiana, she was unexpectedly becoming closer to Esther instead. After she had helped to take care of Esther during the ball, when Edward had done his best to shame her publicly, Esther had sought her company more often. It seemed as if Charlotte through her kindness and loyalty, much like Babington with his unwavering affection for Esther, had broken through her defences and gained her trust. Babington gradually made her open up and bloom, but she was still a very private person, slightly wary to her nature and did not ask Charlotte unwelcome questions. Charlotte therefore found peace in her company in an environment which she otherwise found increasingly hard to endure. They often strolled along the beach or in the Denham Park gardens in companionable silence or discussing the safe topic of wedding preparations. Therefore it was natural that Esther, who did not have many friends, came to ask Charlotte if she would be her maid of honour and Charlotte, who did not know what else to say, accepted.

-o-

With trepidation she walked in Esther's footsteps that day, all the way to the altar. Sidney was Babington's best man and walked by her side. She had known he would be and tried to brace herself for the encounter yet seeing him again had taken her breath away. He was a tall and utterly handsome stranger and it seemed impossible that he nearly had been hers. For a moment she thought she had imagined it all, but then their eyes locked and she knew it was not so. The air between them seemed to fizzle when they walked side by side, but their hearts were heavy. Only they, Babington and Mary, knew that they had hoped to walk this aisle as bride and groom.

When the vicar performed the wedding ceremony, they stood on either side of Babington and Esther and Sidney's eyes did not leave her face. If she had doubted his feelings even a split second over these weeks, she did not have to doubt any more. His eyes spoke silently to her and she somehow knew that he inside repeated the wedding vows, just like she did. They belonged together, until death did them part and no man could separate their hearts even if they could not live as husband and wife. The wedding couple today was Lord and Lady Babington, but to Charlotte, no one existed in this church except Sidney when 'I do' echoed inside them.

It was painful to go separate ways after the ceremony. Naturally he had brought Mrs. Campion, anything else would have been strange as they were engaged and much of the time she clung possessively to his arm. Charlotte did not expect there would be another opportunity to talk to him. In the church he had been hers, out here they had to act as common acquaintances again and she actually preferred to avoid him over having to pretend to be that.

"Well, Miss Heywood do you still proclaim your independence?" Lady Denham interrupted her train of thoughts. "Or is it that none of our young men have taken your fancy? I wager we'll see you walk down the aisle very soon."

Her sharp eyes rested on Charlotte and she got the distinct feeling that the old lady knew and perhaps even understood better than anyone here that true love had been sacrificed for the greater good. Before she could answer, Lady Denham turned to someone behind her.

"What do you say, Mr Parker?"

Suddenly Sidney was standing in front of them, but before he in turn could answer, Lady Denham was pulled aside by one of the other guests, leaving them awkwardly to their own. What do you say when there are a thousand things to say and you can speak none of them?

"How do you do, Miss Heywood?"

It was the first time she heard him speak today and the deep timbre set her nerves on fire. She was not Charlotte to him anymore and it hurt them both.

"Very well, thank you."

His eyes continued to mirror everything she felt, everything they could not say.

"And your family, are they well?"

His question reminded them of the clifftop walk that day, when he had rambled on before they kissed.

"Very well."

"Ah."

"How are your own wedding preparations?"

She had to ask, not to break down and cry and tell him she loved him, not to ask him to choose her instead and forget about everything else.

"Elaborate."

The dull pain in his voice cut through her like a knife. How would they be able to live through this, live a life without one another?

Mrs. Campion appeared out of nowhere and grasped his arm again with a smug smile, awaking them both from the trance.

"Well, who would have thought planning a London wedding could be so exhausting? Perhaps we should have simple country affair like this one, dear."

She chuckled maliciously in the way that seemed to be significant for her.

"Though I don't think it would be quite our sort of thing, do you? Men, what do they know?"

Charlotte simply stared at her without saying anything, hating that she mentioned of things as 'theirs' and simultaneously spoke condescending both of this wedding and her fiancé. If she had been a different person, Charlotte would have pitied Mrs. Campion because Sidney married her for money, but she sensed so clearly that she did not marry out of love either. She wanted to possess Sidney and she did not want him to be happy with anyone but her. Charlotte had no idea how the engagement had come to be, but the little she had seen of Mrs. Campion made her believe there was no reason to feel sorry for that woman. Her heart ached for Sidney who had to live his life with her, when it so obviously was the last thing he wanted. For Charlotte, this would have been easier to endure f she had known he was happy.

"Good day, Miss Heywood."

Mrs. Campion led him away like a dog on a leech, maintaining her smirk and Sidney glanced over his shoulder as a silent goodbye.

-o-

The plan had always been that Charlotte would stay in Sanditon until the beginning of August and if she had left earlier it would have raised questions she did not want to answer. Thus she stayed the few remaining weeks but spent most of her time with the children or reading. She could not stand Tom's company as he now was absorbed in the re-building plans, as enthusiastically arrogant as before. Georgiana and she were coolly civil, and she did not voluntarily search her company. Esther and Babington were wrapped up in marital bliss. Arthur was too jovial, Diana too hypocondric. Stringer she liked as much as before, but she avoided him to some extent not to nurture the unwelcome feelings she suspected that he held towards her. When someone loves you and you do not love them in return there will always be a certain awkwardness in the relationship which is difficult to disregard for either party. In the end Mary was the only one she could stand but she often avoided her too because she found her compassionate glances and unspoken questions hard to bear. When the day came to travel home to Willingden, and she bid the family farewell outside Trafalgar House relief was the overarching feeling inside her.

"Goodbye, Tom. I hope the rebuilding goes well."

"Don't you worry, my dear. Sanditon will rise from the ashes as sure as eggs are eggs."

She smiled sweetly at him and wondered how it was possible for a man to be so self-centred that he was completely oblivious to the havoc he had caused around him. How he could not understand what his brother had given up, the grief he had caused Mary and the pain she herself endured? It was all about him and the town and they were collateral damage. She hoped he would succeed so their sacrifice would be worth anything.

When she turned to Mary, her sadness over parting was not feigned.

"Goodbye, Mary. I cannot thank you enough for your kindness. You've been such a good friend to me."

She had indeed and Charlotte knew that if she had allowed her, she would have tried to console her more over losing Sidney.

"I am only sorry that Sidney couldn't be here to say goodbye. He has other commitments", Mary said, almost as if she could read her thoughts

"I do understand."

"Despite everything, I do hope you don't regret coming to Sanditon."

"How could I? It's been the greatest adventure of my life."

It was true. Her papa's warnings had come true, so had Esther's, yet she was unable to regret coming. She could not imagine a life where she had not met Sidney and experienced all the things she had. It had been laughter and pain and it had changed her profoundly. It had been blissful to be the naïve girl she had been when the carriage rolled into this town, but she would not want to go back.

The carriage drove away, soon left the Sanditon streets behind and climbed the steep road up on the cliff tops. Through the window she could she a last glimpse of the townhouses, the vast greens up here and the sea stretching out at the foot of the cliffs. The same view that had taken her breath away the first time she saw it. It still did even if she knew it well by now.

Suddenly she heard a familiar male voice shout something to the driver and he halted the carriage. Curiously she opened the door and saw Sidney dismount from a horse and come striding towards her, looking like he had been riding all the way from London to catch her.

She had not seen him since the wedding and just the sight of him made her heart race. The fact that he stopped mere inches from her even more so. There was a flutter of hope inside her. Had he come to tell her he could not let her go? That he had found a way?

" I couldn't let you go without…" His voice broke. "Tell me you don't think too badly of me."

"I don't think badly of you."

It was true. His eyes had already told her the true nature of things. He would marry her if he could. Her heart sank, because she realised he had not come to ask her to stay. He had come to say goodbye. To part forever. To give her the proper parting she had wished for. She regretted that wish now because nothing could be more horrible than this.

"I don't love her, you know."

She understood that was as close as he could come to telling her he loved her, without acting like a dishonourable scoundrel. Yet that was crossing a line too.

"You must not speak like that. She loves you and you've agreed to marry her. You must try to make her happy."

She knew that otherwise he would hold himself in contempt, he must remain the good man he was, or he would be destroyed and fall apart. She needed to know that he would remain himself, somewhere.

He knew she was right, yet he grimaced.

"Yes. Yes, you're right. I have to fulfil my side of the bargain."

He breathed heavily and she sensed he wanted to kiss her. She wanted it too, wanted it with every part of her, but she also knew it was wrong. It would taint the memory of the pure, beautiful kiss they once had shared if they kissed now when he was engaged to another. The air between them shivered, but their lips never met.

"Goodbye, Charlotte."

She wanted to ask him how she was supposed to live her life without him, now that she knew that he existed and loved her, but she did not. She knew he did not have the answer.

"I wish you every happiness. Goodbye."

Hastily she stepped inside the carriage again and they took off, leaving Sidney behind.

She was sure she never would forget him.

She wondered if she ever would love another man again.

-o-

Sidney remained where he was until the carriage finally disappeared out of sight, taking Charlotte away from him and his heart with her, leaving an empty space inside his chest.

Then he kneeled on the grass and cried until there were no more tears to cry.


	19. An unexpected encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sidney feels trapped in his own life and makes an unexpected re-acquaintance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Before I continue beyond episode 8 I want to mention a few things;
> 
> I have not read any other continuations because I did not want to be limited by what others have written. I hope I will not duplicate someone else's plot but if I do it is accidental.
> 
> I have not written an outline, I never do, so I'm not sure how this will go except that I guarantee a HEA. I do not aim to write what I believe would happen on screen, I will write what I want to happen to Sidney and Charlotte.
> 
> Lastly, thank you for patiently following this story and thank you for all your lovely comments!

Eliza's shrill laughter cut through Sidney's absentmindedness and brought him back to Mrs Willard's drawing room. An after-dinner game of whist was played over by the table, but he had reclined in an armchair at some distance, feigning reading a book. It had been lying at a side table and he had grabbed it as an excuse to be left alone, but when he turned the first page it turned out to be a collection of quotes by Heraclitus. He could barely hold back a hollow laughter. Charlotte continued to be ubiquitous in her absence. He did not want to forget her, in fact knew he was incapable of it, but the ceaseless reminders of the woman he loved but could not have were painful. Yesterday he had thought he caught a glimpse of her through the carriage window but knew it must have been another brown-haired woman walking down the street.

His eyes fell on Eliza. It seemed she was laughing in triumph over winning the game. He could not help but constantly comparing them. She was everything Charlotte was not; competitive, ungenerous, spiteful and manipulative. In every aspect she came out short. He resented her more for every day and wondered how he was supposed to survive spending his life with her. He answered himself in his next breath; by continuing to avoid her as much as he possibly could. They would naturally not live under the same roof until they were married, and he was grateful that she insisted on such an extravagant wedding that the preparations had brought them into late autumn and she then wanted to wait until spring so there would be fresh flowers. He had the feeling that she wanted to parade her wealth, beauty and her new young and handsome husband for the entire London society and a sumptuous wedding was more important to her than the wedding happening promptly. It only confirmed to Sidney that she enjoyed the idea of marrying him more than actually loving him. Anyway he was grateful because she had given him a few more months of respite, being as free as an engaged man could be.

She frequently attempted to drag him along to different social events and this evening he reluctantly had allowed her, but he often told her he had business to attend to. It was not the first time he had buried himself in work, but never had it been such a welcome distraction as now.

"You don't need to work so hard, now that you will marry me", Eliza had wined recently when he once again rejected a dinner invitation.

"Do you really think I would want to live of your late husband's money?" he answered with disdain.

"It didn't stop you from taking them for Sanditon."

He froze. It was a cheap shot but true. He knew she would use this as a weapon for the rest of their lives and it made him wonder for the thousandth time if it had been the right decision.

"That's different. I did that for Tom and because you made sure that there was no other solution. Remember? I need to work to provide for myself, I will not abstain from that."

"Sidney..." she purred in an attempt to sound seductive, but it only made his blood chill.

"No, Eliza. You will not change my mind in this matter. I'm quite determined. I will never give up running my business. Not now, not when we are married."

"I'm sure you'll come around once we are wed and realise how comfortable you can live. There is no reason for a gentleman of fortune to work."

Yes, there is. If he wants to keep his self-respect and if he wants to escape his spouse, he thought grimly.

"You see, that is where we have to agree to disagree", was all he said out loud, then picked up his newspaper and went on to ignore her until she resumed her embroidering.

The more he thought of the impending marriage, the more he dreaded it. Not only because of Eliza's malicious traits, but because she was so shallow that he could not picture sharing his waken time with her and so unattractive to him that he could not imagine sharing her bed. He could not even imagine kissing her. He had avoided it up until now and intended to keep it like that for as long as he possibly could. Charlotte's sweet lips were the last ones he had touched and if he had his way he would never touch any other. He knew that many married couples did not share the same bedroom and he wondered if he could escape it altogether even if Eliza had said one of her conditions was that they would share marital bed. She could hardly force him once they were married. He did not enjoy stringing her along and had she been a different, kind and caring person, he knew he would not have managed the charade. As it was now, he felt that she got exactly what she deserved.

It was uncanny how she pretend like their meeting in London after the fire, when she essentially forced him into the engagement, had never happened. She had told her acquaintances that he had proposed to her by the riverside after the regatta. She had described the romantic event quite detailed and proudly demonstrated the costly ring she had picked out herself. It made him shiver with disgusted anger when he remembered how the conversation actually had gone when they parted as enemies. It seemed like she almost believed the false story herself and sometimes it made him wonder if something was not quite right with her. Besides denying how their engagement really had come to be, he had nothing solid to put his finger on though and resigned to the fact that it probably was his own resentment of her that made him look for additional flaws.

The one thing that made him stand it all were the regular letters from Tom, exuberantly telling him how the rebuilding of the ruined houses had started and how well everything was with Mary and the children. That reminded Sidney of why he had done this terrible sacrifice and had to live with the choice he had made. He heard nothing of Charlotte and could only hope that she led a better life than him home in Willingden, protected from the slander Eliza had threatened with.

-o-

A few weeks later he reluctantly accompanied Eliza to a ball. He was not the least in the mood for it, but she had insisted, or rather made a poorly concealed threat, saying that if he did not start paying her more attention she might feel inclined to break off the engagement. Even if that was truly he wanted, he knew that her support to Tom and Sanditon would disappear in the same moment and then he would be back to square one. Thus he had agreed to go to the ball but was not looking forward to it.

He had not lied to Charlotte the time when he said he felt like an outlier in the London beau monde. He saw the majority as prospective clients and very few as friends. Eliza was not the only factor making him want to escape, almost everything here made him long for the peace he had found in Sanditon last summer. He was happily surprised when he suddenly saw a familiar face in the crowd as Babington came criss-crossing over the floor.

"Sidney! It's been a while and didn't expect to see you here this evening. I know this is not your favourite sort of gathering."

"You are right, it is not. Eliza insisted though."

He felt slightly embarrassed at the sight of his friend, because truth was that he had avoided him and Esther since his return to London. Partly because the apparent growing affection between them made him mourn what he had lost, but mainly because there was a conversation he wanted to avoid having with Babington.

Babington was among the few who had understood his feelings for Charlotte and the lack thereof for Eliza. Sidney knew he must have wondered when he ended up engaged to the latter one after all, but he did not want him to ask about it simply because he was ashamed. The situation Tom had put them all in was shameful and he wanted to keep it in the family as much as possible, even if it apparently had leaked in some circles as Eliza had managed to find out. He was even more ashamed that the only solution he had managed to conjure up was selling himself. Of course, marriages happened all the time for no other reason than getting access to a fortune, but he had always been so adamant that this was not for him. His close friends had used to joke that he would end up marrying a pauper so that no one could doubt money had nothing to do with it. He felt like he had placed himself on a high horse and fallen hard. When it came to it, his principles had been worth sacrificing but he wanted as few as possible to know that and it would be more difficult to admit it to Babington than anyone, because he would understand how hard it had been. At the wedding Babington had been too occupied to ask and after that Sidney had skilfully dodged one-to-one conversations. As for asking Babington for help, it was unthinkable. He would not stoop so low to ask his friend to even consider putting up such a humongous amount of money even if he was good for it, because there was no way Sidney ever could repay it.

"Ah, I see. Eliza, your fiancée. As a matter of fact I have been wanting to talk to you about that, but first of all, there is something I must tell you…"

"Lord Babington, what a pleasure to meet you here."

Speaking of the devil, he thought to himself when they were interrupted by Eliza appearing by his side. He flinched when she grasped his arm with her usual possessiveness. He could tell by her slightly glazed eyes and more than usually high-pitched voice that she had had quite a few glasses of punch. He did not like that because it usually made her even nastier than when she was sober. He was grateful he was slightly numbed by wine himself, so he might endure it.

"Mrs. Campion, the pleasure is mine. I often attend balls like this. I just said I am more surprised to find my friend Sidney here to be honest. I know this is not his right element", Babington chuckled.

"Nonsense. I will change that." She playfully tapped his arm with her fan, and he felt like grabbing it and throwing it across the room. "Who in their right mind would be so boring to sit home when they are invited to a splendid ball like this? Or work, for that matter. Lord Babington may I inquire, what is your position in regard to Sidney working? You who are a gentleman."

Babington looked a bit surprised by the question.

"Sidney is certainly a gentleman too, just a working one", he answered diplomatically.

"That is my point. Gentlemen of fortune who don't have to work, should not work. Would you not agree?"

Sidney felt the familiar anger rise up inside him. She was obviously determined to mould him into the husband she wanted. He would not let that happen.

"I don't know about that. I quite admire Sidney for what he is doing, and it is a very respectable business. I think he is proof that a gentleman can indeed work. Times are changing Mrs Campion and I dare say more of us will work in the future."

He appreciated that Babington supported him, but the intoxicated Eliza was on a mission.

"Oh, I don't believe that Lord Babington. There is something so… simple about working. Sidney will for sure give it up once we are married."

"I. Will. Not." He kept his voice low and calm, though speaking through gritted teeth.

"Oh, of course you will, dear. I never expected you to be so persistent, but I will make you see how diverting and comfortable your life can be without tedious work."

He turned to her and made sure to remain composed so he would not cause a scene, but no one who was close enough would have missed the cool fury in his voice.

"Eliza, forget it. We have discussed this before, and my position remains unchanged. I will not give up my business to be an adornment by your side. For your information I find gatherings like this infinitely more tedious than my work. I feel restless, I feel useless. Babington is the only person I have seen here tonight whom I was actually glad to see."

The one he was least happy to see was she, but he did not say as much.

"But…"

"No buts, that is the end of this discussion."

His blood was boiling, and he knew he was close to losing control. It was not simply her words, it was the built-up desperation of being trapped in an unwanted engagement that threated to erupt.

"Sidney…" she attempted, but he cut her short.

"Excuse me, I will get myself another glass of wine. I need it."

After a nod to Babington, Sidney turned and left. He did not care if he had hurt her, in fact he hoped he had made her as furious as she had made him. Increasingly he felt like he had sold his soul to the devil to ensure that Tom, his family and Charlotte were safe. He would do anything for them, but did it have to be so damn hard? What had he done to deserve this?

He went to the refreshment table, poured himself a glass which he emptied in one swig, followed by another. He wanted to get drunk and it would take a substantial amount of wine to achieve that.

He knew the answer to his own question. Nothing. He had done nothing to deserve this. Even if he felt guilt about some things in his past, he knew that was completely unrelated to the situation he now was in. It was Tom's recklessness and a stroke of bad luck that had brought this upon him. Fate is not always kind and the moment he had felt like the sun finally was shining on him, the thunderclouds had rolled in. It was unfair, but he had seen enough to know that life was unfair and that he in so many ways still were among the privileged ones in this world. However, the increasing feeling of being trapped, like a caged animal, ate away on him.

'Should not a marriage be based on mutual love and affection? Without equality of affection, marriage can become a kind of slavery.'

Charlotte's words from Lady Denham's pineapple luncheon many months ago suddenly echoed in his head. That luncheon was probably the first time he had realised that she was an intelligent woman, not just a frivolous girl waiting for a suitable suitor to come along. He had thought her right already then, but never expected that he would be unable to make that choice freely himself. Nor had he imagined that his choice would be Charlotte if he still had been free to make it.

He downed a third glass and registered that the heat from the crowd and the hundreds of lit candles was becoming quite oppressive and decided to find some privacy and fresh air. He could not leave before Eliza, but he could damn well avoid her until the ball was over.

In his search for some calm and quiet, he left the main ball room and the adjoining rooms where people merrily played cards, smoked, ate and drank behind him and walked down a hallway. Again his thoughts went to Charlotte and how she had escaped in a similar manner during the London ball they had attended together, only to befriend none other than Lady Worchester.

Striding along he turned a corner and bumped into someone quite painfully, which made him curse until he saw her face.

"Char... Miss Heywood!"

Had he dreamed her up or was she real?

"Mr. Parker!"

He stared at her, trying to grasp it was truly the physical form of her standing before him, not just a figment of his imagination. She stared back with wide eyes.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm visiting Esther, Lady Babington. She invited me to come and stay with them for a while."

"You are staying at the Babington's residence?"

"Yes."

Why the hell had Babington not told him? Then he remembered that Babington had intended to share something when Eliza interrupted them.

The shock of running into Charlotte unprepared made adrenalin pump through his body, but he was not inclined to neither fight or flee. Well, perhaps fighting for her. Having her in front of him made him wonder what temporary insanity that had possessed him to ever let her go because the feelings she evoked in him were even stronger than before. They flushed over him like a wave, almost sweeping away his feet under him and preventing him from breathing.

She was the same and yet different. It was hard to put his finger on what the difference was exactly. There was a maturity to her that had not been there before, perhaps that was it. And a wariness. Had he caused that? He wished it was not so, but at the same time also found this altered Charlotte even more fascinating and desirable than before. God how he wanted her, needed her. More than ever because of the desperate rage he still felt against Eliza after the earlier conversation.

He reacted without thinking.

He grabbed around Charlotte's shoulders and half pushed, half dragged her with him down the hallway and into an empty room. Maybe she was too surprised to put up any resistance or she wanted to come, but either way she allowed him to maneuverer her.

He closed the door behind them and just stared at her for a moment, still needing to convince himself that she was real. The air was shivering with tension. She leaned her back against the door and he was not sure if it was because she needed support or because she wanted to stop others from entering.

"I can't believe you are here", he said hoarsely. "I see you everywhere, all the time and I can't believe this time it really is you."

"It is the same for me", she whispered. "I have seen you everywhere since I arrived in London and even before that you were on my mind. Constantly."

It was all it took to tear away his last shred of self-control. He knew he should not because it was not right by her, yet he stepped into her to catch her between himself and the door and pressed his body flush to hers and cradled her head in his hands. His lips hovered above hers for a second, long enough to see the approval in her eyes, before their lips locked.

Their first kiss on the clifftop had been so gentle and tentative. She had been insecure and inexperienced, and he had not wanted to take more than she was willing to give. Their mutual desperate longing for each other made this kiss very different. He was unable to put a lid on the passionate feelings he had to tried to bury inside all these months. They relentlessly welled up the moment he saw her again and he could not hold back. He would not have wanted to even if it had been in his power.

During their clifftop goodbye when she left Sanditon, she had been strong enough to resist a kiss and even prevented him from speaking words of love. It seemed that strength had withered away over time, or perhaps it was that her feelings had grown too strong to withstand, just like his. He did not delve upon the reason, only revelled in that she returned his kiss with the same fervent intensity. She buried her fingers in his hair and tugged at his curls to hold him closer. She parted her lips for him and when he allowed his tongue to probe inside, she did the same. If their first kiss had been quite innocent, this was the opposite and they latched onto each other with matching fire while his hands roamed her body and she pressed herself to him. He could not hide his arousal, but it did not seem to scare her, only make her kiss him harder.

They kissed until they ran out of breath and everything around them disappeared. He wished he could merge with her then and there, be one and never part again. For some time they allowed themselves to forget that outside this room he was engaged to another. For some time they were the one thing existing in this world.

What finally made him come to his senses was a moan escaping her. Not because it made him want to interrupt, but because it so nearly pushed him past the point of no return. He wanted her and she wanted him, but he would ruin her if they allowed themselves to go any further than they already had. It was the last thing he wanted. He loved her too much for that.

He let go and stepped back with heaving chest and ragged breath and simply watched her. She was the most spectacular sight he ever had seen. Her breaths matched his, her eyes were larger and darker than he ever had seen them, her lips full and red after the intense kisses. He wanted to have her under him in a bed, but only as his wife.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have… forgive me", he said even if he was unable to feel the slightest regret.

"We shouldn't have… but I cannot claim that I am sorry, or I would be lying."

Charlotte answered coyly, but then to his dismay and absolute delight, closed the distance between them and kissed him again.


	20. How to move on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Charlotte and Sidney enjoy a moment of stolen bliss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: First, thank you for all your lovely comments! I read them all and would like to answer each personally but sometimes real life comes in between. I just want you to know I truly appreciate that you take the time out of Your lives to read and give me feedback.
> 
> I wish I could make my updates a bit less irregular and I promise the story eventually will be finished.

"Miss Heywood, I must say I find your behaviour this evening positively shocking", Sidney murmured with his lips pressed to the top of Charlotte's head.

The door was safely locked, and they were resting relaxedly on a chaise longue. Sidney with his back against the backrest, Charlotte leaned against his chest, comfortably fitted between his long legs, with his arms protectively wrapped around her. Some time ago they had interrupted the kissing before it completely got out of hand and were now more peacefully enjoying the nearness of one another. However, Sidney's words made Charlotte stir and turn her face up to his. Concern flashed up inside her as she very well knew that the quite unrestrained passion she had shown was not appropriate for an unmarried young woman, especially not with a man who was promised to another.

"Do you think ill of me for it?"

His fond smile calmed her even before he spoke.

"Of course not. I also find you more invigorating than sea bathing…"

He softly grazed her lips.

"…more revivifying than the Sanditon air…"

He dotted another gentle kiss, lingering slightly longer with his warm lips against hers.

"… and more amazing than Tom's bathing machines."

Her body relaxed again when she realised he was simply joking. She giggled and answered with feigned indignation.

"Are you comparing me with Tom's bathing machines?"

"They are after all the finest on the entire British coast. At least if you ask Tom."

She loved the barely concealed laughter in his voice. She had heard it before but too few times because he had so often held it back during their acquaintance. At least in the beginning. Slowly he had thawed and gradually showed her more of that endearing side of him. How she loved his laugh. She had not expected to hear it again and it warmed her as much as his body.

"You haven't even tried them, as they are intended for the ladies. If I remember correctly you prefer to go swimming in a more secluded place, like a certain cove."

"I could make an exception. I would not mind trying a bathing machine with you."

He spoke with seductive warmth. Despite that she loved the easy banter and despite the situation they already found themselves in, his comment made her blush.

"I am serious about what I said. What we have done this evening, what we are doing now, is not right. You may not love Mrs Campion, but you are engaged to her and she loves you. That makes me…"

Charlotte was about to say 'the villain' or even 'the harlot'. She did not feel like it though, because the intimacy between her and Sidney felt so natural and completely right. He interrupted her before she could finish the sentence.

"That does not make you any of the things I suspect you were about to say. Not in my eyes anyway. If anyone is at fault here it is me, but I cannot make myself feel guilty of doing wrong. I may be engaged to Eliza, but I do not love her and furthermore she does not love me."

"She does not?"

Charlotte's surprise was genuine.

"No." Sidney's expression shifted and he suddenly looked grim. "She wants to own me. She does not want me to find happiness with someone else. I suspect that she somehow wants to make up for something she lacked with her first husband, though she chose him over me. She does not know the real me and does not care to do so. She wants to mould me into something I am not, to fit her purposes. To be honest, I am not sure she is capable of true love and being married to her would be like forever being caged."

"That is a horrible thing to say about someone."

Charlotte frowned her brow, taking in Sidney's words. She found it hard to believe anyone could be as horrid as he described Mrs Campion. It grieved Charlotte that he was engaged to her for so many reasons, but there was also a small joyous flutter in her chest when he once more confirmed that he held no affections for her.

"Yet, the more I see of her, the more convinced I am that this is the case. It is like something is missing inside her or has been destroyed. I am not sure if she changed over the years or if I just was too naïve to see behind her pretty face when we were young. Considering her actions, I think I might have been. Now she seems rotten to the core, like Lady D's pineapple. Remember?"

Of course she did. She would never forget that luncheon with the maggot-filled exotic fruit and his, then, unsettling nearness. She remained quiet for a while, pondering his words, then asked something that had been much on her mind.

"What happened in London when you engaged yourself to her? Did you seek her out and propose?"

Over the months that had passed, thinking of that he had turned to Mrs. Campion for help had continued to hurt her. Charlotte was well aware that she herself had no money to put on the table, but she could not help but wish that Sidney had at least sought her advice and support. She tried to shake it off, repeating to herself that the situation was so grave and there had been no time to waste. She knew that a country girl like her, a gentleman's daughter but of scarce means, could not contribute with much, but she still ended up wishing that Sidney would have allowed her to stand by his side. She would have, unflinchingly.

"No!" Sidney sounded horrified by the mere idea, then continued with softer voice.

"No, it was not like that. I am sorry you would think so, though I realise it is not a farfetched conclusion. Let me tell you what happened. Seeing Eliza was not even on the map, but she came to me."

Holding her close to him, Sidney told Charlotte everything that had transpired that week. The many closed doors, the negative responses, the nagging feeling that there was something more behind it than just unwillingness to risk investing in a seaside resort. Then Mrs. Campion's surprising appearance at his doorstep and confession that she had made sure there would be only one option; marrying her.

"She made it very clear that she through her connections had ensured that nobody else would even consider investing in the rebuilding. It was she or no one and the condition for her stepping in was that I married her. I could not understand why she wanted that. We had not parted on good terms in Sanditon after the regatta, because I told her I was not interested in resuming our relationship. Then she said that she never entered a race unless she intended to win it. She also said that if I rejected her, she would find a way to soil your name."

Charlotte listened, stunned that someone could be so malicious, and the last part surprised her more than anything.

"My name? Why? I'm nothing to her."

"She is quite perceptive when it comes to some things. It almost seems like she understood my feelings for you even before I did. Looking back I think she was jealous of you through the entire visit to Sanditon, judging by the snide remarks she made about you. When I met her in London, she claimed that she easily could slander you for trying to seduce a man who was practically engaged, for going out with him alone in a boat."

"That was completely innocent!"

"We know that and probably she too, but it doesn't take much to start a rumour if you know people in the right circles. She claimed that if I married you, she would spread the word that it was because you were already with child, so I had no choice."

"I wouldn't even know how to seduce a man", Charlotte muttered indignantly.

He chuckled heartily.

"You don't need to know how to do it, to do it Charlotte. I think Eliza for sure would say that you are seducing me right now. In fact, you were slowly seducing me from the day I met you even if I was late accepting and realising it. I'm not saying you did it on purpose, but you did it by uncompromisingly being yourself. You are an astounding woman with the ability to change people around you for the better."

Thinking of herself as a seductress made her slightly uncomfortable, but simultaneously a warm feeling of satisfaction spread inside her. She had made him feel things from the very day they met, even if he had called her a maid.

Gently nudging her chin with the back of his hand, he tilted her head and sought her mouth with his own. His words made her think she ought to try to resist, but there was not an ounce of will in her to actually do so. When they several minutes later interrupted the deep kiss her heart was pounding hard again and her breath was shallow. It did not matter that this would be wrong in everyone else's eyes. This was right and what he had told her about Eliza Campion only confirmed it.

He cleared his throat and seemed to struggle to gather himself much like her, before he resumed the conversation.

"Anyway, Eliza made me see that by turning her down everyone would lose; Tom would surely be sent off to debtor's prison and my family would be disgraced. That would make it unfair to ask you to marry me including you in our shame and, as the cherry on the cake, she would ruin your reputation. It was not a bright future she painted and I knew it was very close to happening. If I on the other hand accepted her proposal, everything would be solved. The only thing I had to give up was my own happiness."

"And mine", she whispered.

"And yours… but I thought I could not be the husband you deserved under the current circumstances anyway. I hoped you would forget me and be happy without me."

He paused and looked deeply into her eyes.

"I also hoped you would never forget me.

"I haven't."

He pulled her close to him, so her head rested on his chest again.

She thought it strange how surreal yet natural it was to be like this together. To feel his lean, warm body behind her, his broad thighs framing her, his strong arms around her. Sheltering and arousing.

"I wish I had told you everything already then, but things happened so fast. I couldn't fully believe reality until I told you I was engaged and after that I was strangely paralysed. You were so brave when I told you, but I saw the tears in your eyes and the pain even if you tried to hide it and run away. The moment I understood that hurting you and losing you was reality, I believe I went into a state of shock. I had been entirely focused on finding a solution, but right then it truly hit me what I was giving up and what I was doing to you. I couldn't seek you out again that evening, not without exposing to everyone what we meant to each other and that would only make things worse. Then I had to return to London and couldn't reach you. I must admit that I was also worried Eliza could find out if I tried to contact you and it would have implications for you and Tom. She had made me swear not to disclose anything to anyone about our deal. I am glad you know now, and we simply have to make sure Eliza never finds out about that, or about this."

His words made her sit bolt upright.

"We have been here for long, we should go back."

He reached for her hand, wrapped his fingers around hers comfortingly.

"No need to panic. The only advantage with a large ball like this is that you easily can disappear in the crowd. Eliza knows I was angry with her, so I had reason to avoid her anyway. Before we part for now, we need to talk about us."

"How can there ever be an us?" she asked, suddenly disheartened. "Nothing is different from how it was at the end of the summer. You are still engaged and you could not break it off even if you want to, for so many reasons. Under any circumstance it would be dishonourable and adding to that it is still the only way to rescue Tom and your family. And no matter how lovely this moment has been, I cannot allow it to happen again. I won't stoop to being your mistress."

Her words were determined but she found that she believed them less by the minute. His presence and the knowledge that their time was borrowed made her desire unfamiliar forbidden things.

"I would never ask you to be, because you are worth so much better, darling Charlotte and neither of us would be happy like that. You are right that some things are the same, but some are also different."

"What is?"

"This." His arms squeezed tighter around her for a moment. "The fact that we have had this moment together. I already knew my own heart, now I know your feelings remain unchanged. I feel stronger than ever that I must find another way out of this situation because I cannot imagine spending my life without you."

His words made her so overwhelmed with emotion that she first could not manage to say anything. He filled the silence.

"I have been thinking of you constantly. Everything has reminded me of you. Part of me hoped it was different for you, that you would heal quickly and move on. Perhaps meet another man who could make you happy again, because I truly want you to be happy. But part of me was more selfishly hoping that you felt just like I, that it would be impossible to forget. I knew I had absolutely no right to hope for that after passing you over, for money just like Eliza did with me, but I could not help it."

Now she turned to him so she could look him in the eyes and cupped his face between her palms. She was almost distracted by the feeling of his warm skin under her palms, but pulled herself together enough to speak.

"Not like her", she said with calm emphasis. "You didn't do it for your own gain, only for others. And to keep me from harm. There is a big difference. I don't think ill of you for it, on the contrary. I will never forget you. I wouldn't know how. I have wished I could because I knew it was futile to hang on to you, but I cannot. When Esther invited me to London, you were the first thing on my mind. I was not sure I wanted to see you. I dreaded meeting you with Mrs Campion again, perhaps a married man now, but since the moment I came here I have been looking for you. When Esther told me you were still unmarried I almost cried because I was so relieved."

"And that is why I cannot go through with it. Impossible! I must find a way out."

"No." She firmly held his gaze. "We must find a way out. You and me. Count me in, together we can perhaps find a way. If you want me as your partner in life we should start from here. I mean…" she interrupted herself, suddenly remembering that after all there had been no proposal and could not be. Was it presumptuous to after this evening assume he wanted her as his partner in life?

Her determined words, stubborn look and sudden hesitance made him smile with equal measures of fondness and wistfulness.

"You are right and I wish I had indeed treated you as the partner I want you to be. I know what you are capable of. No one else had so many creative yet realistic ideas as you when it came to saving Sanditon. Still I didn't invite you to be part of saving it this time, or saving us. It is the worst mistake I have ever done. I hope it is not too late now. Will you forgive me? Will you be on the same team as me once again?"

She knew he was reminiscing the cricket match, the first time they teamed up in a game. They had collaborated already before that, saving Old Stringer's leg. In fact they had been good team players before they warmed to one another. There was no limit to what they could achieve together when in love.

"Of course I will… Sidney."

Saying his Christian name again felt almost as intimate as kissing him. He was her Sidney even if he was engaged to Mrs Campion. In his heart he was and together they would make it real.

Hearing his own name from her ignited the flame inside him again and with a swift move he shifted them so she came to lie under him on the chaise longue. He stared down on her with focused hunger. His eyes were so dark and piercing and strong want shot through her. All her senses registered the wondrously enticing feeling of being captured under his hard body, his form matching her so perfectly that there was literally no space between them. Both knew it was a dangerous game, but the desire enhanced by not knowing when they would be able to do this again was a more powerful force. Their lips touched again. Soft at first, but soon clashing hard almost like they wanted to breathe each other in. Her hands roamed the muscular planes of his back. Her hesitance seemed to evaporate simply because she could not get enough of feeling him.

Sidney supported himself on one arm, but the other slowly travelled along the roundness of her hip, lingered caressing her waist, then continued up her side, exploring her form. Tentatively he grazed the outside of her breast. This made her gasp but not flinch and encouraged he continued caressing her. His fingertips found her nipple through the fabric of her dress and he paused, almost as if the discovery astounded him. It astounded her. The sensation of him touching her there. How her nipple immediately responded by becoming rigid and even more sensitive to his caress. Their very first kiss had woken things inside her so many months ago, things she had tried to repress since then. Now he was breathing air on the dying embers bringing them to full flame again. Her skin felt heated, her insides felt heated. When his lips moved to her neck every bone in her body seemed to dissolve. All she wanted was to succumb to these sensations, hold him to her as close as possible, inhale the scent of him. She buried her nose at the crook of his neck and sighed loudly with pure happiness. This made him interrupt his ministrations and burst into soft laughter.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because I feel the same. Happy. For the first time since… since you last made me happy. Only with you I feel like this. Like I'm where I'm supposed to be, like I am the man I'm supposed to be."

With the pad of his thumb he traced her lips.

"We have to stop now though. I don't want to lead you where we don't want to go."

She knew what he meant. She was not that kind of woman but she had never expected the path to ruin to feel so good and so hard not to chose.

'We' he had said. He did not want to end up like that either. She loved him for it and for so much else. She wished she dared to tell him that. She wished she had the right to.

He sat up, pulled her with him and carefully adjusted her dress and put an escaping lock of hair into place behind her ear.

"We should probably not be alone again, not for now. I don't trust myself to resist you."

"How will we meet again?"

"I'll call on Babington's house in the next days. Perhaps it is time I share with him how things really are."

She nodded.

Reluctantly they moved apart, knowing now it was time to do so.

"I'm afraid that when you leave, this will all feel like a dream."

"It will." He smiled sadly. "The very best of dreams. We have to fight to make it come true. Meeting you tonight has given me the strength to fight and made me dare to believe we can do it. Don't give up hope, Charlotte. That is all I'm asking of you."

"I won't, I promise."

And she felt in her heart it was true. After this, there was no way she was giving up on them.

"Let me leave first and wait a while before you follow, so no one sees us together."

He cupped her cheeks with his hands but this time only pressed his lips to her forehead. Then he rose to his feet and she immediately missed the nearness of him. He stopped with his hand on the door knob.

"Charlotte, I…"

He did not say more aloud even if his eyes conveyed the message clear enough. The time and circumstances were not right but she knew what he wanted to say. After tonight she knew with certainty.

"I know." She smiled at him and her eyes brimmed with tears.

He left with one last long glance over his shoulder and closed the door behind him.


	21. The art of pretending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sidney’s temper gets the better of him

Charlotte sank back onto the chaise longue again. If someone came in she could simply claim she was feeling unwell and needed to rest, even if truth was that she had not felt so well and alert in a long time. Perhaps on fire was a more appropriate way to describe her present state.

Grazing over her own pleasantly bruised lips with her fingertips, she replayed the last hour in her mind. An hour of bliss which she never had expected to experience outside her own vivid imagination. This was probably the reason why she had allowed it to happen. How many times during the months in Willingden had she not regretted that she had been so righteous that day when they said goodbye? If Eliza Campion was to have Sidney for a lifetime, why hadn’t she, Charlotte, allowed herself to indulge him for the briefest moment? 

The autumn had been hard to endure. Coming home to Willingden, her immediate feeling had been one of relief because it was comforting to return to familiarity and a place where nobody except Alison knew that Sidney Parker existed. Not even Alison knew much since the only letter where Charlotte had described him in affectionate terms had been discarded after the news of his engagement and never sent.

That relief quickly gave way for something else. When she was not plain sad, she felt restless and listless. She gradually realised how much she had changed and still was changing. The metamorphosis which had begun in Sanditon continued as the past months’ events truly sank in. In the stillness of the countryside, she could reflect upon everything more objectively and see things with a new clarity. She understood now, that her opinion of herself at the time when she departed to Sanditon had been skewed by her own lack of knowledge of the world outside this place. Just because she was the eldest among her siblings, aged twenty-two and had read extensively, she thought herself quite knowledgeable, wise and capable of judging characters and situations. The time in Sanditon and the acquaintances she had made there had proved her wrong. Persons and situations were so much more complex than books let on, no one and nothing so black and white as they seemed at first glance. Someone’s actions could seem malicious but be based on good intent and experience, whilst another could have good intent yet cause misery in the wake of his actions and oblivious move on without noticing the harm done. Someone who appeared a friend could lead you astray and make you betray other’s confidence just to serve her own purposes, and another who had been cool and distant suddenly open up and turn out to be a true friend. These and other insights made her see how little she had known. Despite that she now was wiser, she felt like she still only knew a fraction of what the world had to offer outside her father’s estate and the village. For good and for bad, she couldn’t help but craving more knowledge and experience. She had outgrown Willingden. It was no longer enough or perhaps it had never been, but only now her eyes were open to it. Her learnings had been painful, but she did not want to hide from them, did not want to return to square one. Even if she had wanted to she would not have been capable of it. Ignorance is bliss, but only as long as you are unaware that you are ignorant.

She had spent so much time analysing and reanalysing every single micro-event, that she eventually wondered if she was going insane. She already knew her own judgement to be questionable and had moved on to doubt her decisions and even feelings. Was this true love that she felt for Sidney? Could it be after such a brief acquaintance with a man whom she initially thought abominable? Could it be, when there was no future in sight because he wilfully had turned away from it? In the end the argument she had with herself always circled back to the same conclusion; yes, she undoubtedly loved him.

There were also the more painful moments when she had doubted _his_ feelings. Thought it impossible that he grieved her like she him. Were his feeling not fickle if he could accept surrendering the fate of marrying another? She tortured herself by imagining that the marks he had left on her was much deeper those she had left on him. He was her first love, but she was not his. She was convinced she would never forget him. Perhaps he had never quite forgotten Mrs. Campion and would happily settle with her, Charlotte turning into a parenthesis in his life. Then again she had felt that no, it was not like that. They were forged for each other. She knew he had given her a silent vow in the church that day, just like she had him. His eyes had told her and they had never lied to her, even when his mouth denied the truth. It had only taken her time to learn to read them. 

At this point, reminiscing the shifting expressions in Sidney’s brown eyes, from fury to concern, from hurt to love, she usually began crying because the pain was so intense. Her wounds remained open and she wondered if they ever would heal.

Early November another letter from Esther had arrived. They had stayed in touch, regularly exchanging letters. Charlotte had lightly described life in the countryside, never mentioning Sidney and dreading news of his wedding. Esther had not mentioned him but instead told her of how she and Babington were settling in London as newlyweds. Between the sweepingly elegant lines, Charlotte could read about her growing affections for her husband, but also of the loneliness Esther felt when his commitments took him away from her at times. Her longstanding habit of keeping people at arm’s length, made her difficult to warm to. She may seem indifferent to that, but was in fact not. She missed a true friend. Charlotte had guessed as much and the new letter she confirmed it, when Esther asked if Charlotte would please come and join her as her guest in London.

She had been hesitant at first, but the pull was too strong. Even if she had not liked London much at first sight in summer, the big town was alluring and the temptation to once again widen her perspectives outside of Willingden became irresistible in the end. So she had left again, this time a woman not a girl.

She was not sure what she had hoped would happen during her stay in the capital. No, wait - who was she trying to fool? _This_, what had happened here tonight was what she had fantasised about, but had not believed would come true. The only difference in her fantasies was that he somehow was free from his engagement and had rounded off a fiery kiss by proposing to her. Instead she had _stolen_ kisses and it baffled her exceedingly that she did not feel remorse. Instead she hungered for more. Much more.

With a deep sigh, half contentment, half despair, she rose to her feet. This had been lovely but she could not allow it to happen again, unless they were properly promised to each other. The path to _that_ destination seemed winding and treacherous, nearly impossible. However, now knowing for sure that he loved her dearly and still after all these months wanted to be with her, not Mrs. Campion, gave her new strength. She wanted to fight by Sidney’s side, for _them_. 

She made her way back to the main ball room, feeling like a different woman than the one who had walked the other way. Men had showed her attention all night, but knowing that Sidney desired her made her feel like she was glowing from within. She had never felt so beautiful.

“Where did you disappear off to?” Esther came towards her with Babington in tow, reaching for her hands with a concerned expression. She looked especially lovely this evening in a violet dress and her red curls swept over one shoulder attached with a diamond-adorned clasp. Upon her arrival to London, Charlotte had noticed that Esther’s face and figure seemed a little fuller than before and she suspected there was a reason as to why she looked so radiant other than just being in love with her husband.

“I was feeling unwell for a while, almost feverish. I found a room where I could rest for a while.”

”You _do_ look a bit flushed. Are you sure you feel well now?”

”Never felt better”, she flashed them a genuine smile but Babington’s gaze had shifted to someone behind her.

“Here comes Sidney and Mrs. Campion. Sidney, come here! Look who is our guest, an acquaintance of yours.”

She felt her back straighten by reflex and her skin prickled. Oh, how grateful she was that she already knew he was here, that they had met privately, otherwise she might have fainted. As it was, she felt a bit weak at the knees but remained standing and turned to greet the newcomers as could be expected. 

”Miss Heywood.” 

He managed to pitch his voice perfectly to sound surprised but the eyes that locked with hers after the polite bow conveyed velvety warmth. 

“Mr Parker. Mrs Campion.” She managed to keep her own voice steady even if she hated to see Mrs campion clinging to Sidney’s arm.

“Miss Heywood, have you escaped your little village again? Tired of farming?”

“So it seems”, Charlotte answered amiably, ignoring the barely concealed insult.

Mrs Campion looked _very_ unpleasantly surprised and sounded quite vexed. She tried to fake a smile but was really pursing her mouth. Almost immediately she shifted her gaze to Sidney to scrutinize his reaction, only to find him looking indifferent. In fact she would have found nothing to complain about, had it not been for Lord Babington. After exchanging a few polite phrases, he jovially turned to Sidney.

“Miss Heywood has been all the rage this evening, but why don’t you take her to the dancefloor now that she is free for a dance, Sidney?”

Sidney looked as taken aback as she felt.

“I’m not sure Miss Heywood feels like…”

“Nonsense! She has told us how much she loves to dance. You have been dance partners more than once in the past if I’m not mistaken. We can keep Mrs. Campion company.”

Charlotte did not know why he would suggest that. Of course an engaged man was allowed to dance with others and for anyone who did not know the history it would not be strange that Sidney politely danced with her to make her feel at home in London, but she had the distinct feeling that Babington knew there had been something between them. Was he cruelly toying with them, or was he giving them a chance to be close? Given what she knew of his good nature, the latter seemed more plausible.

She thought that Sidney might continue to object as the whole situation was so awkward, but instead he nodded solemnly and managed to look as reluctant as he had the very first time they were paired for a dance. Mrs Campion looked like _she_ wanted to protest, but it would seem very impolite to do so, so she held her tongue.

As Charlotte took Sidney’s arm and he led her to the dancefloor, he whispered seriously to her.

“We have to be careful now.”

And so they began a strange dance. To an outsider it would seem as stiff and impersonal as their first dance in Sanditon. Sidney held her at armlength’s distance, her gloved hand rested on top of his without him wrapping his fingers around it. His other hand held lightly around her waist without pulling her towards him. Yet the air between them was as charged as during the previous London dance and when they were hidden between other couples she could feel his fingers briefly caressing the small of her back. As soon as he had his back to Mrs Campion, his eyes silently repeated what he had told her before.

“We should probably make conversation”, she hissed and tried not to inhale his heady scent so deep that it was visible to others.

“Is your family in good health, Miss Heywood?” he inquired with a smirk.

“Just as good as the last time you asked.”

They both remained silent for a moment, remembering that time. The conversation and what had followed. Charlotte wished she simply could enjoy the proximity of him, but a knot of uneasiness was forming in the pit of her stomach.

“I’m not comfortable with this game. Dancing in front of your fiancée.”

His eyes shifted from affectionate mischief to earnest concern.

“I don’t want to play games either. I wouldn’t have asked you to dance now if Babington had not insisted. Even if I love to dance with you, I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or draw unnecessary attention to us. That is what I meant when I said we have to be careful. I wouldn’t want Eliza to suspect I have been interacting with you.”

“Interacting?” She could not help but smiling, amused. “Is that what you call it?”

“No, that is not what I call _it_.” The corners of his serious mouth twitched upwards. “When I say ‘interact’, I referred to our conversation. It would be bad enough if she realised I have told you the truth when she explicitly forbade me. As for other aspects of our earlier meeting, I think we had better not name them amongst others”

“I think you are right. She did not look happy to see me.”  
“As I said, she was very perceptive to my feelings for you already from the start. Perhaps she watched us dancing at that ball, before I saw her. It is actually the first time it occurs to me, but maybe that is the reason for her jealously towards you. It was a magical evening until she appeared. I wish I had never left your side, wish I had never met her again.”

“If it is as you think, she would have sought you out sooner or later. If she was set on winning you this time.”

He clenched his jaw.

“She won’t win. I’m determined of it now.”

“Just be careful Sidney. As much as I want to be with you I don’t want to jeopardise anything for Tom, Mary and the children.”

“I don’t want to jeopardise their future _or_ yours. I will be careful and we will find a way.”

“Yes”, she allowed herself to smile at him and for a moment forgot about Mrs Campion, floating with him accompanied by the music.

The musicians finished the last accords of the song. Before he let go of her he closed his fingers around her hand for the briefest moment. Then he stepped away, bowed and stiffly held out his arm to lead her back to the others.

Mrs Campions watery blue eyes glistened dangerously with cool fury, telling Charlotte that even if they had been careful, their dance had been enough to fuel her jealousy. She was therefore quick to accept when a young man she had been dancing with earlier this evening appeared by her side to ask for another. She did not dare to glance at Sidney before she was swept away to the dancefloor, but did not have to see him to instinctively know that he was clenching his jaw.

-o-

He made sure he and Eliza left before Charlotte and her admirer returned. Even if he did not doubt her feelings after what had passed between them, he could not prevent jealousy from welling up inside him because that man was allowed to show his unmasked admiration for Charlotte. He was probably free to propose to her this very evening should he wish to – and she was free to accept. _He_ was the one who was bound to Eliza. Bound by honour, bound by economic considerations, bound by love though not for his fiancée. He detested it and wished he had been a scoundrel who could throw all such concerns aside, except he knew he would never be able to live with himself then and Charlotte would not want such a man so it would all be for nothing. Dearest, loveliest Charlotte. The fire she evoked inside him, the longing. He could not be hers soon enough, but how?

Luckily, Eliza seemed as eager to leave as him. They walked in silence to the carriage and for a moment he hoped he might be left to his thoughts during the ride, but as soon as it started moving she turned to him.

“Miss Heywood looked very pretty this evening.”

He was not fooled by her feigned casual tone.

“You think? Since when do you care how Miss Heywood looks?” He made sure to sound indifferent too.

“Well, since the man I am engaged to cannot take his eyes off from her.”

“That is far from the truth.”

She exploded.

“How could you embarrass me like that?!”

“Like what?” He made a point of still keeping his voice calm, sounding tired more than anything despite the instant flash of anger her words provoked him to feel.

“You know very well what I mean, Sidney Parker. Dancing with Miss Heywood, looking at her like...”

“May I remind you that it was Babington who insisted? I didn’t want to dance with her, I tried to get out of it.”

“That was a half-hearted, ridiculous attempt! You may not have asked her to dance, but you certainly _wanted _to! I could see it in your eyes! Your damn expressive eyes, they betray you!” She almost spat the words out.

“Your unmotivated jealousy is clouding your judgement.”

Deep breaths. Stay calm. He could not allow himself to be provoked.

“It is not! That temptress is trying to steal you from me.”

“Temptress? Steal me? I assure you she cannot steal me from you.”

Because he was not hers to begin with. His heart had belonged to Charlotte all this time and it always would. Anyway it seemed like his words managed to calm her slightly. She stopped hyperventilating.

“I am warning you though. If I see any signs of you and Miss Heywood being friendly towards one another I will withdraw my investment in Sanditon and make sure her reputation is ruined. Don’t you ever forget that!”

“How could I ever forget that Eliza? You are a constant reminder of it.” He sounded more bitter than he had intended to.

Her eyes widened.

“So you don’t love me?”

He let out an involuntary snort.

“Have I ever said I did? This time around? You know this marriage is a business arrangement which you forced me to accept.”

She had gotten under his skin. And he could not stop himself.

“Because I know we belong together! I _know_ you will love me again!”

“Then you know more than I do.”

“So you admit you love Miss Heywood after all?”

“I don’t admit anything! What I feel or don’t feel for Miss Heywood is irrelevant as I am engaged to _you_, but I can assure you this; I. Will. Never. Again. Love. You.”

He took a deep breath and immediately regretted his words. He had spoken out of turn. He should not have said that, but all the events combined this evening had pushed him over the edge. His anger towards Eliza, the tender and passionate moment with Charlotte, Eliza’s justified jealousy and his own sense of confinement. It was all too much to keep locked inside and finally he had burst.

She stared back at him in shock. Then she smiled an uncanny, cold smile and batted her eyelashes.

“Then you’d better be very good at pretending, dear.”

She turned to the window and the drove the rest of the way to her house in silence.

Sidney sensed something very similar to hate, combined with a sinking feeling that he had made a terrible mistake exposing himself just now. He became increasingly convinced that something was not quite _right _with Eliza and he should not provoke her because God knows what she might do. He and Charlotte should secretly work to find a solution for themselves and Sanditon and he hoped that he losing his temper for a minute had not jeopardized their already small chances of succeeding. He feared that Eliza Campion would stop at nothing to have her way and it was imperative that he kept her unaware of that things were not going that direction.

She was right about one thing – he had to be better at pretending.


End file.
